Broken Toys
by Dessel Ordo
Summary: After precautionary measures taken by the Italian government freeze the survivors of the Social Welfare Agency, the handful of survivors awake hundreds of years in the future. When Serenity finds a lost sleeper ship, two ragged bands of survivors meet.
1. Chapter 1

Authors Note: Yea, I have another fic in progress, and yea I should probably finish it. But when the plot bunnies strike...

This story contains MASSIVE spoilers for Gunslinger Girl up to chapter 90 of the manga. If you dont want it spoiled, dont read yet.

I dont Own Gunslinger Girl, I dont own Firefly. If I did, I wouldnt be posting my ramblings here.

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><p><em>Piemonte, Italy. New Turin NPP\\\\_

Dying, he turned the pistol that had been his death, Henrietta's retribution, back towards the cyborgs eye . As the cyborg, no, little girl, begged and wept for him to live, to be fine, he corrected himself... but he knew that he was a dead man, just the same. "If you meant that..." he wheezes out, as he pushes the handgun into the girls shaking palm, or was it his that was shaking? "then I want you... to fulfill, your promise."

_****Broken****_

Rico leaned over Jeans prostrate form, the massive hole in his side from the anti-tank rifle she had fired through him oozing blood. This was what he wanted, right? Giacomo dead, his family avenged? This was what he trained her for, to be his revenge, why he saved her from her broken body, right? Then why, now that she had fulfilled her mission, did she feel so sad, so empty.

As the man who had given her purpose, life, surrendered to the abyss in her arms, to week to gasp out more thana word or two, she felt tears roll down her cheeks. Without thinking, the words began to tumble from her mouth as freely as the tears were falling from her eyes "You cant... it would be such a waste if you died now." she half pleaded, half-sobbed. As she took in another ragged breath, she felt Jeans last pass through his lips "_Your my only reason for living!_" she confessed to the fresh corpse.

_****Broken****_

Alessandro couldn't help but smile. They had done it, the cost may have been heavy, but the reactors wouldn't melt down, the stolen nuclear bomb would go off. The Five Republics would be all but wiped out after tonight, Italy would have peace, finally. Petra wrapped him up in a tight, celebratory hug as he stood in the center of the room. _She gives back in such small ways, _he muses to himself.

_/Italian Prime Ministers Office\\\\_

"Are you certain?" the minister asked, voice laced with fear and resolve. The man opposite the ministers desk nodded, solemnly. So the Five Republics had a nuke... no, that madman Giacomo did. "I had hoped that the Social Welfare Agency and the Five Republics would simply wipe each other out, but like this, there would be too much collateral. The new weapon we recently acquired from the Japenese... I want you to use it on the New Turin NPP."

The messenger faltered "But, Minister, our people in the plant..."

He sighs "The cyborgs are certain to survive, and, with any luck the handlers will as well. After tonight, we will have no immediate need of the SWA. God-willing, we wont have to defrost any of them for a very long time. Use the Cryo-bomb. Thats an order."

_/Ghost Lane, somewhere between Greenleaf and Persephone\\\\_

"Now who will stand on either hand, And keep the bridge with me?" the Bits voice from echoed from behind him causing Mal to leap up from the captains seat. Today had been one of Rivers better days, by the more sane standards they judged her by since Miranda. So of course, Mal was shocked for her to be about so deep into the ships night cycle, spouting crap that didnt make sense.

"Gorramit girl! What'd I tell you 'bout sneakin' up on me like that?" the captain demands, trying to rub the sleep from his eyes. It was damn hard to stay awake sitting in the cockpit during the ships night cycle.

River shrugs as she drops into the co-pilot seat, and starts moving to end the night cycle "Horatius, by Macauly. It was the last thing he had been thinking before they made him sleep. You would have missed them if I had not woke you."

Mal shook his head inwardly, and she had been doing so well today too. Before he could respond however, the lights flicked from the dark, soothing hues of the night-cycle to the harsh, brighter tones of the middle of the day cycle "What in the ruttin hell are you doin Bit? Jaynes gonna skin you alive, an I dont know if I'm gonna have a mind to stop'im. And who was thinkin that, Horatius?" Mal presses, trying to ignore the phrase commonly associated with the conditioning and experimenting that had been done to his Albatross.

River shrugs "He couldnt if he wanted to, and you wouldnt let him..." River trails off musically as the unhappy sounds of what was left of the crew being rudely awoken filtered up to the cabin. Before long the crew filtered in to the cabin. Simon in a pair of plain slacks, Kaylee in one of his longer shirts, Jayne in boxers and an open shirt of his own... Inara was in her shuttle, so still sleeping. And Zoe, she would come back, just as soon as her and Washs kid was old enough to leave with family. Mals mind continued to wander, quickly returning to that day, not too long after building their memorial she had realized she was pregnant. After loosing Wash, Mal simply hadnt had the heart to ask Zoe to stay. She had promised to come back, and Mal to leave the locks so that she could get onboard.

"Anyone mind tellin' me why the ruttin' hell we're all up in the middle of the night?" Jayne asks, not bothering to hide his grumpieness, nor his move to scratch his ass.

Mal nods "I do believe that you were about to tell me what was goin' on, Bit."

River stares off into the black "More like us..."

Mal sighs "Still havent told me why we're up."

"Another Firefly? Nuthin special'bout that..." Jayne interjects grumpily.

River shoots him 'the look' that only she seemed able to pull off, as she replies "No, broken."

Jayne cocks his head to the side "Boken? What're you on about girl? Aint nothin wrong with me! Doc, I though you said your feng le sister was getting better."

Simon blusters "I, she... I told you that..." he trails off as a large, but not quite massive ship floats into view.

Mal lets out a low whistle "Not every day you see a ship like that."

"Shen sheng de gao wan" Jayne trails off, suddenly transfixed by the artifact of a ship floating past the viewport.

Kaylee galnces about "That looks to be one'a the sleeper ships they sent from earth-that-was, but..."

Simon interjects for the mechanic "Not all of them made it. Nearly 10% were lost in transit, this must be one of them."

"Probably full'a all sorts a shiny." Jayne postulates, suddenly awake, and grinning like a kid in a candy shop.

Mal sighs "Shiny thats gonna be a right pain ta move."

"Worth more than the crap jobs we've been flyin lately." Jayne retorts.

Not looking away from the ship drifting past them, Mal replies "Wasnt sayin we shouldnt have a look, just that anythin' we takes gonna take a bit ta unload is all."

River looks up from the co-pilots screen "Several cryo-chambers are still functional."

Simon does a double-take "Th-that should be impossible, that thing has been adrift for hundreds of years."

Kaylee shrugs "One thing that didnt ever get better after we left earth-that-was was cryo tech. We got better ways'ta wake a body, an better meds to make goin under easier, but still freeze'em the same way."

Jayne shakes his head "Bullet'll put'em down. Aint no place in the verse fer'a 500 year old refugee from earth-that-was anyhow."

Mal glares at Jayne "Aint no-one shootin anyone without my permission. Refugees delivered to a Uni or an interested historian could fetch almost as much as antiques from the ship. An we may even be able to let'em talk to more'n one iffin we paly our cards right."

Jayne shakes his head again "An how the gorram hell do you expect to find a core-bred scholar that'll believe that we found an honest-ta-god sleeper ship, complete with sleepers and goodies, cap'n? They'll just write us off as crazy rim-born idjits an ignore us."

Mal shrugs "We'll see what we find. Everyone suit up, Kaylee, wake Inara and have her watch the bridge while we search this hulk."

_****Broken****_

"Atmos thin, but good" Kaylee announces over the short-range radio in their suits. Simon breaths a sigh of relief as he removes his helmet.

"River, which way to the cryo-tubes? They may be running, but that doesnt mean the people inside are alive." Simon asks his sister calmly, fully expecting to spend the day looking at corpses.

The girl simply inclines her head for Simon to follow, her face cross with concentration. They all knew that she still had no control over her 'powers' but she had been trying more and more to reign them in of late. Though without much success, unfortunately. They walk in silence for a while, Simon not even needing to check most of the tubes to see that they hold only corpses. Eventually, they reach a section lit by ship power, not their flashlights. "Here they are, the sleepers." River inclines her head to a score of tubes. Off to one side, are two young girls, alone, plain, large lockers near the tubes, exactly the same as the corpses before and after them. To the other side, are two girls, older, but still young, each with a man not much older than the captain to their right.

After a few moments, during which Simon confirms that they are, in fact, alive, he replies "Six survivors... incredible." He looks up only to see River shooting him her patented 'your such a boob' look.

Before either can say anything, Jayne and Mal arrive "So doc, we have any survivors? Kaylees lookin at the workin bits'a this old girl, and I figured itd be best ta check in with you before we go off lookin for bits a shiny to stuff our holds with."

Simon nods "Six, actually. I think I can wake them, but I have no idea what the side-effects will be."

Mal nods "Might as well, maybe they'll be able to help us out."

Simon moves into action, choosing one of the lone girls, shoulder-length brown hair, cherubic features... most likely to be a safe choice. He dusts off the control panel, and, after pressing a few buttons, the young girl inside begins to stir, as the tube opens up to allow her to exit. Simon steps back, remembering how River had reacted when he woke her up. Part of him thinks it will be worse, but he pushes that to the back of his mind. The entire crew seems to be holding their breath, save River, who looks torn between going to the slowly waking girl, and standing back behind Mal. After stretching, yawning, and saying something Simon doubts anyone can understand, she looks around. At first she looks like anyone would expect a 14 year old girl to look and act after waking up from sleeping. Then, something crosses her mind, and she simply asks, in her lilting, gentle little voice "Jose?"

Jayne leans over to quietly ask Mal "Whos Jose?"

The captain looks over to his public relations officer and responds blankly "Aint got a clue." as the girl asks for Jose again, though it seems more of a plead than a question the second and third times she asks for him, as she slowly climbs from her stasis tube.

"Lost her gege." River observes, still behind Mal and Jayne, as the young girl crumples to the floor, crying bitter, devastated tears. She periodically fits words in-between her heartbroken sobs, but no one can understand her.

"Any idea what shes sayin?" Jayne asks, as the others stand frozen on the spot in confusion.

"One of the Romance Languages from earth-that-was. Dead for centuries." River replies, cautiously edging towards the girl.

"They had whole languages fer pillow-talk on earth-that-was?" Jayne asks.

River freezes in place long enough to shoot Jayne a sour look, before tentatively kneeling down to comfort the girl, though it is clear that she has no idea how to proceed. "Simon, try wakin' up one of the pairs over here." he orders, inclining his head to the linked cryo-tubes. "Wake the blond and black haired guy please, I dont have the best luck with redheads..."

Before Simon can respond, Kaylee walks into the hallway "Ship wont give out on us anytime soon, but the parts aint worth nuthin..." she trails off as she absorbs the scene before her "What the helld you say Jayne?" she asks the merc, clearly very ready to be quite pissed at him.

Jaynes head snaps over to glare at Kaylee as Simon goes about waking up the pair inside the cryo-tubes Mal indicated "I aint even said nothin to'er. She came out of her box an just started cryin like that. Aint my fault..."

Before the argument can come to maturity, the sound of the tubes opening cuts both Kaylee and Jayne off, as they turn to greet the waking pair. The girl fully wakes first, and drinks in the situation much more quickly than the first girl to wake. She glances about, her face flashing from confusion, to worry, and finally to protectiveness, as she interposes herself between the now fully awake man behind her, and the crew, bristling. The pair begins to have a rapid-fire conversation in the same language as the first girl to wake up. "An here I was hopin that someoned be able to tell me whats goin on. Kayle, Bit, Simon, watch the sleepers an wake t'others up. Keep'em here, dont need no tetchy oldtimers getting in me an Jaynes way while we gather up the goods."

Before Mal can leave with Jayne the black-haired man speaks up "We can... speak english. We were simply trying to determine what happened, this is not where we last remember being."

"An where do you remember being last?" Mal asks the man turning around to face him.

He hesitates, before continuing in his strange accent "We were... doing work for the government, and, I'm not certain if I should be discussing it, or how much detail if I do."

Jayne chuckles "Doubt a'buncha deadmen'll care if ya talk 'bout their secrets. 'Sides, been at least 500 years by our reckoning."

The girl looks over to Jayne crossly "Your lying. Now tell us where we are." she threatens darkly.

Jayne snorts as Mal replies "On a sleeper ship out in the black. Yours got lost during the evacuation from earth-that-was. We just happened to find you."

The man stands up, and moves to stand next to the blond replying "I hope you wont mind if I ask for proof, and point out that it is impossible fro one to sleep for 500 years."

"Is in a stasis pod." Kaylee cheerily points out as Simon sets about waking the smaller blond girl up.

Mal shrugs "Follow me then. Kaylee, wheres the nearest viewport?"

The mechanic glances over her shoulder as the little blond happily stretches, grinning from ear to ear as she does so, before her face falls too. She doesnt break down like the brown haired girl, but she does collapse back into her pod, not bothering to get out of it, as tears begin to silently track down her face as well. "Keep headin down the way I came, you'll see one soon enough."

After walking for a while in silence Mal and the recently awoken cyborg and her handler reach the viewport. Mal doesnt know exactly what the man says, but he knows a curse when he hears one. "And your name was?" he eventually asks as the shock finishes washing over him.

Mal smirks as he turns to follow the young girl and her... relative, he decides, back to the rest of his crew. "Malcom Reynolds, captain of the Serenity. Most just call me Mal though. And you are?"

The man pauses, before beginning to follow Mal back towards the others "I'm Victor Hillshire, and this is Triella. The brunette you woke up already is Henrietta, and the little blond is Rico." he explains as they return to a very groggy looking Allesandro and Petra slowly stirring as Jayne happily goes through one of the lockers by a pod occupied by a dead cyborg.

"Ruttin hell Mal, you see the pieces these folk had? Worth an awful lotta plat to the right buyer." Jayne crows loudly enough to gain Mals interest as he hefts the antique gun that he had just pulled from a locker.

Mal glances over to Hillshire "Well Victor, hope you dont mind us takin' some of the pieces you wont be needin."

Hillshire sighs "Let me see what Allesandro thinks." Mal nods, and quietly leans against the bulkhead, watching Jayne rifle through the corpses lockers for a bit. As Hillshire and the other adult, Allesandro, apparently continue to argue heatedly as River tentatively continues to comfort the still sobbing Henrietta, running her hand up and down the girls back. Henrietta's face shifts noticeably, and River tenses. Mal sees the Bits face shift as well. He watches it shift to an all too familiar, dangerous look as Henrietta anounces something to herself if the mystery dead language. As everyone else in the dimly lit corridor sits confused, understanding, and horror, flash across Triellas face. All this in the blink of an eye, before the young chestnut haired girl surges to her feet, still weeping. Henrietta easily breaks Rivers shocked hold, and throws the small locker at the foot of her stasis-tube open. "Jose" she reverently breathes, as she pulls her P-239 from the chest. As Triela launches herself across the corridor, the only other person not too shocked to move, Henrietta slams the pistols magazine into its butt. The weapon lines up with Henrietta's right eye, and, just as the safety is clicked off, the older cyborg knocks the weapon from the younger ones hands, before sliding behind her, and restraining the grief-stricken girl.

As Henrietta begins to wail again in the same language as her other recently awoken comrades favor, still struggling against Triellas grasp, Mal asks "Anyone mind tellin' me what the ruttin' hell just happened?" tersely.

For a few minutes there is silence, before Hillshire looks to his charge "Triella?" the spunky cyborg raises an eyebrow, despite the obvious strain she is going through in her attempts to keep Henrietta restrained. Hillshire simply nods in response.

Triella sighs "Henrietta figured out what killed Elsa." this response of course, helps no one, so she continues "She told Jose, and the Section One agents that were visiting the two of them that in Elsas position she would do the same as Elsa did. I dont know what Jose said to her before he died, but its pretty clear that he did." She nods her head back and forth, indicating the stasid tubes all filled with cyborgs, no handlers next to them, as Triela and Hillshire had been placed.

Jayne scratches at the back of his head "And what the hell is that supposed to mean?"

Hillshire looks over to Allesandro, and, in english, says to him "If we want to live, we need these peoples help Allesandro. They are likely to figure out for themselves anyways, so we may as well tell them now. Its not like we can be killed for leaking information on the Social Welfare Agency now."

The other man nods, resignedly "The girls... arent human. Not completely."

Kaylee glares at the man as Mal scratches at his head and asks "Care to explain?"

It is Hillshire that picks up for the other surviving handler "The Social Welfare Agency was a secret branch of the Italian government. It combined research with... black ops political assassination, infiltration and counter-terrorism. The technology was, is, cybernetic enhancement of human beings."

"So, who'd you enhance?" Jayne asks, curious, and oblivious.

Hillshire cringes with guilt, looking away from the rest of the people in the room as he replies "The girls. The SWA would take children who would otherwise die, and save them, by turning them into cyborgs."

"Why?" Kaylee asks, mortified.

Hillshire takes in a deep breath, closing his eyes for a moment, and replies "Because, it was the only way we could make the... modifications, stick, or so I was told."

Mal knows the look that he currently bore on his face, he knew what he was feeling. It was the same look he had when he had first joined up with the Independants, the same look he had before going to Miranda "Then you forced those girls to do your dirty work?"

"Wonder how they managed that. Aint never seen a kid that was a willing killer before. 'Specially one that'd just nearly died." Jayne ponders.

Mal does not lighten or shift his glare from Hillshire, but before he can reply, River informs the group "The same way they wanted to make me a killer. Filled them with drugs, moved things around in their heads. Took away some of their memories." Mal hears something, strange, on Rivers voice, and it is that that momentarily compels him to not shoot both grown men on the spot, to save these girls.

"And just what part in this did you have, Hillshire?" he asks the man.

It is Triella that answers the question "Hillshire and I are a Fratello. Every cyborg has a handler. He trains her, sees to her education, her well-being, and supervises her on missions."

Mal flips the leather off his gun, and clicks the safety off, ready to shoot the bastards that made these girls do their governments dirty work, until River translates something "Siblings..."

Mal tilts his head to one side in confusion as Triella lowers the once again unconscious Henrietta down tot he floor, and moves to take her place at Hillshires side. Her eyes affixed on Mals gun-hand, silently daring him to use the weapon. "That all you did for them? Take their memories, fill their heads with nuthin' but killin, and make sure they dont kill the wrong folk?" his voice icy.

Allesandro shakes his head "It is different for every fratello, but I only know of one case where that was the truth."

"Elsa" Rico continues for Allesandro, still not leaving her tube, simply leaning against its cushion, dejectedly.

"Mind expainin' who this Elsa was?" Jayne cuts her off, growing noticeably impatient.

Mal allows himself to enjoy the shocked look on Jaynes face, clearly the merc had not expected a kid to obey him so readily as Rico nods and answers "The conditioning drugs ensure that a cyborg is at the very least loyal to her handler. But it always grows into something more. Elsa, loved her handler, Lauro. So much that she alienated herself from the rest of us. When she realized that Lauro did not love her back, that he only saw her as a replaceable tool, she killed him, then herself."

After a brief time, Mal looks to Hillshire and the man that Mal could only assume was Allesandro "And the two of you?" he asks them, as his mind wanders to what possibly could have been said to Henrietta to make her want to follow in that Elsa girls footsteps. He suspects that something similar is running through the minds of both men from the past, but, from the way Victor looks at Triela, and Allesandro at Petrushka during the continuing silence, he suspects that they treat the girls well. Mal returns the safety on his weapon, and closes the holster before continuing "I'll bring'ya up to speed on what the verse is like, and get you some coin if you help me sell the loot from this boat. Been shorthanded lately, an I doubt you'll wanna bump into the Alliance without any papers, or coin. Chances are you'll end up doin nothin but what you were before you woke up here for them, or worse, if you did."

After a brief while, and more rapid-fire conversation in the language Mal doesnt recognize, Hillshire, who Mal has pinned for the leader of the few survivors found on this ship, responds "Thank you, Captain."

_****Broken****_

Hillshire sat across from Mal in the _Serenities_ common room, Triela in the seat to his right, Alessandro and Petra past her. To his left sits the morose Rico, while Henrietta was in the ships infirmary, on Dr. Tams orders after he learned the completeness of the cyborg condition. At first Mal had forbid him from taking any conditioning drugs, or anything else, from the infirmary on the sleeper ship Hillshire had woken up on but a few hours ago. After hearing Hillshires reason he had sent Jayne and Kaylee to clear space in the cargo-hold for as much as the sleeper ship had stored, as well as more than a few sets of replacement tissue for the cyborgs. Hillshire half-smirked, the captain was a good man. The smirk quickly faded, as he finally came to a decision, at least a temporary one, based on what the captain had told him of current politics. "We cant let the Alliance find us, we need to stay under the radar for as long as possible." The Alliance was, after all, exactly what the Five Republics would have been had they not been stopped.

Mal nods "It'll take a while for us to find buyers for all these antiques we took from that ship, so you shouldn't have to worry for a bit." it seems that he has more to say, but a voice from outside the room cuts him off.

Hillshire wonders who it could be, as the entire crew, save Dr. Tam, who was in his infirmary seeing to Henrietta was present. "I take it you plan to abuse my contacts again in attempt to sell whatever it is you found on that ship, Mal?"

Hillshire feels his face contort into a mask of shock and confusion as a beautiful, elegantly dressed, raven-haired woman enters the room on the heels of her barb. She of course, freezes in confusion when she sees the new people on the ship, looking back and froth from them to Mal "Inara, this is Rico, Victor, Triela, Allesandro, and Petrushka. found'em on the sleeper-ship."

Inarra nods, blankly as she replies "A pleasure." and inclines her head to each of them, clearly acting more on habit than any conscious thought, before she sits down next to Mal.

The former SWA agents return her greeting, though it is clear to Hillshire that the depressed Rico had caught Inaras attention "What is her post on the Serenity?" Allesandro asks, breaking the silence.

Kaylee answers the companions question for her "Shes our ambassador."

Triela looks at the mechanic in confusion "A ship this small needs an ambassador? Are port authorities really that bad?"

Kaylee chuckles "No, shes a Companion. We just call'er our Ambassador on accounts of her being our connection to folk with more money'n class."

"Companion?" Hillshire asks, still not following fully.

Mal chuckles "Dont let the fancy clothes'n properness fool ya, shes a whore."

Inara glares daggers at Mal "A companion is much more than a common whore, Mal. And how many times do I have to tell you to NOT call me one?" Hillshire watches the pair bicker for a few moments, before Inara huffs a sigh and turns back to him "So, how did you survive so long in cryo-stasis?" Kaylee quickly informs the Companion of the science behind the survival of the newest people on Serenity as Hillshire thinks back on the day, and before.

It had taken them hours to move everything of value over to the _Serenity_, but with the extra hands, they had been able to make the move all the quicker. He and the others had all simply moved their lockers, which, were luckily not welded to the ship into the storage. So, he simply tuned out Allesandros explanation of who exactly they were and how they cam e to be here. When Inara is finally satsified, Mal heaves a yawn "'Tween River wakin us all up so gorram early, an movin' all them boxes, I'm damn tired. Gonna push the ships night-cycle up a few hours I think." he turns to face the cyborgs and handlers "We have four passenger rooms, so if the girls share theres enough for all of you. I'll leave the decidin up to you... an we can sort through all the shiny we pulled from that ship tomorrow mornin."

As the captain leaves, Hillshire turns to Triela "You will room with Henrietta once she leaves the infirmary, Triela. Petrushka, you will be with Rico. Move your things and get some rest. We'll take the next few weeks as they come."

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><p>Well, thats chapter one. This fic will hopefully update fairly quickly, as the pot bunnies have been mobbing me about it lately. As to the SWA agents speaking English, its not all that uncommon for people in European countries to know multiple languages, add to that the fact that they are intelligence agents, and its not that much of a stretch at all.<p>

As to the cryo-bomb, GSG already has plenty of light sci-fi stuff in it, so I figured that a bomb/warhead that freezes everything in an area isnt much of a stretch.

PLEASE read and review, knowing that someone is enjoying my story is what makes writing fanfics worthwhile.


	2. Chapter 2

I dont own Gunslinger Girl, or Firefly (if I did why would I be here?)

Thanks to Kairan1979 for the review, its great to know that someone enjoyed my story!

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><p>Simon sat in his infirmary, raking his brain. It was thankfully quiet, his charge thinking to herself silently behind red-rimmed eyes, Jayne, Mal and the recently awoken passengers on their third day of sorting through the belongings of the dead members of the Social Welfare Agency. Simon knew hardly anything about antiques and relics, so he left them to it, preferring to spend his time trying to puzzle out just what had been done to these poor girls, and if it could be undone. He had started by trying to read only the case files for the live cyborgs, after working through the information on their enhancements, and the drugs they were dependent on. That, however, had left him with more questions than answers. He had tried asking Hillshire for some clarification, but quickly found it was a rather touchy subject to the Handler, as his charge was not that far behind Henrietta. So he had done as the man had suggested and read through the cyborg named Angelicas file. And now, here he sat, depressed, and confused, comparing his deep log of drugs that had failed to help his sister, to the conditioning drugs, as he mentally braced himself to follow Petrushkas suggestion and read through Claes's files. He leans forward to brace his forehead against his hand, elbow firmly planted on the counter as he allows his mind to wander. Before any real thoughts can be formed, however, he hears someone enter his infirmary "Hows she doin', Doc?" the captain asks<p>

Simon shakes his head, and turns to face the man "Physically she is stable right now. However, I do not want her to leave this ward for the time being. Between the patches of amnesia and the advanced state of mental decay she is in, I cant garuntee we wont have a... repeat, of what happened to Jose."

Mal scratches at the back of his head "A stance I can get behind, though, leavin her locked up with nothin but her thoughts cant be good. Especially if memories that are supposed to be gone" he pauses to step forward, looking down at the seemingly catatonic girl "And with good reason, are comin' back, a fact I still dont fully understand."

Simon shrugs "The last phase of a cyborgs life is uncharted territory. Only one died of, age, and she lost almost all of her memory, then began to remember her life before she was a cyborg. Henrietta is following the same pattern, but Triella, who already keeps emergency hypos of the drug on-hand, has almost no memory loss save where her weapons came from. If I didnt already know what was causing all these symptoms I would say this is almost as difficult a case as River was before we did the Ariel job."

Mal nods understandingly "Not sure if this is worse, or not. 'Least River'll live a full life."

Simon drops the files he had been going over and turns to look at Henrietta "I may be able to find a way to cure these girls. From the files Kaylee pulled from that ships computer I know they were close to that end before the agency was closed down."

The captain leans against a wall "Well, unless this job pays off a whole lot better than I'm expecting right now, your only buying time so that they dont go feng'le while their workin' with us."

Simon is about to reply, when Jayne bursts in, a display case in his hands "Mal, I've got our in!" he declares triumphantly.

Triella walks in behind the merc, much calmer, and looking more than a little frustrated "Settle down, I dont even know if they fire. All I know is that Riccardo got that pair of Colt Navies for Christmas a few years before we got put on ice. He never cleaned them, never shot them, just put the case on his desk in Section 2, and left them there."

Jayne turns to the cyborg "An' next you'll tell me that thats a bad thing. Just like you say what you did to that M1897 was a good thing."

Triella indignantly plants her hands on her hips "I couldnt shoulder it properly before I shortened it. So yes, considering that that gun saved my life more than once in most weeks, yes, that was a good thing."

Jayne shoots an acidic glare at Triella and shoots back "You speak so highly of that gun, an how important it is to ya, but ya cant even tell me who it was that gave ya the ruttin' thing."

Triellas face darkens, but before she can reply, River drops down from the vents, and half-whispers to the cyborg "Not now, Jaynes an easy mark if you plan it out. Follow me." before grabbing the confused cyborg by the arm and leading her off into the ship.

"Mind expalinin all that Jayne?" Mal eventually interjects.

The merc slowly nods, before moving to stand next to Simon, his back away from the entrance to the infirmary, as well as any ducts "We found this display case in one of the lockers after you left to talk with the Doc. These're Colt 1851 Navy Revolvers, one'a the most famous guns from Earth-that-was. All prettied up like this, an in what I can only assume is good workin order might be enough to get us in. As to Feng'le, well, she climbs around the vents. From what I hear Simon an-" Jayne is cut off as the Doc elbows him in the gut.

"In where?" the well dressed man asks as Jayne steps away from the elder Tam.

Mal grins "Into Durran Haymers good side. See, none of our contacts have the coin to pay for half'a what we got. Now Durrans friends..."

"Are more likely to turn us all in to the Alliance than do business with us." Simon finishes, scoffing.

Jayne shakes his head "Not likely to happen. See, we've got rare artifacts that normally go to museums... 'less they buy'em from us. Aint a rich, self centered ha-dun in the 'verse that'd turn down our offer."

Mal grins "And those pistols, if what Jayne says is true, just might be enough to make up for the Lassiter. Do that, and we're all sorts'a shiny."

After a few seconds of Simon glancing back and forth between Mal and Jayne, utterly shocked and terrified by the stupidity of the plan, and certain that Saffron will somehow ruin it all, Jayne cuts in "So, this one is still sleepin?" after Simon shoots him a rather disappointed, patronizing glare the merc adds "Was lookin forward to meetin this one. The redheads always makin eyes at her Handler, older blonde cant never keep'er mouth shut, and I aint hardly heard more'n a sentence a day out'a the little blond."

Mal shrugs "What they've been through, I'm surprised only the little ones are showing the strain from it. From the way Vic paints it, this one is supposed to be the sweetest little thing this side'a a box of kittens."

Simon nods "And Rico was constantly happy and excited, before she woke up on the sleeper ship, supposedly."

Mal pushes off from the wall "Cant hardly blame'r she lost her pa, gege, most of'er friends, and her living all in one. Hell, cant blame any of'em for bein a bit tetchy or difficult."

Jayne hands Mal the case "I'll finish goin through the goods with Petra an Sandro, cap'n. Dont feel like worryin on abuncha freaks that wont be'round long anyways."

After Jayne leaves, Simon interjects "He does realize that Zoes coming back, right?"

Mal nods "But havin him not tryin to take over or arguin with me all the time is nice in the meantime. I gotta check the course. Don't do anything with the cyborgs without runnin it by me first. 'Specially if it'll cost us coin." he replies, leaving the infirmary.

_****Broken****_

Rico wasn't particularly tired, which didn't surprise her. She had slept for over five centuries after all. So, after finishing her chores on the ship for the day, she had waited for Petrushka to fall asleep, then she set off to wander the ship. It wasn't very large, but it gave her time to think. And she had to do a lot of that, now that she was alive, and Jean was dead. As she made her way pas the infirmary, where Henrietta still lay sleeping, fitfully. She has no handler either now, no purpose, Rico noted to herself idly as she ascended the steps towards the dining area. Just like with Angelicas death, and Elsas before that, and the death of all the other members of the SWA that she had seen go, it didn't really affect her. Her and Jean had been different, they weren't just doing their job, they had a higher mission. He was making her into the perfect tool for his revenge. She would kill Giacomo Dante, they would make Italy safe for everyone, and then... and then "Nihao, little one." a voice greeted the brooding cyborg.

Rico turned to face the voice, to see Inara, the Companion that rented a shuttle on the ship "Hello." Rico blankly replied, not lifting her tone as she made to continue walking.

Inaras face fell, clearly something going through her mind "Is something bothering you, Rico?" Rico stopped, and turned to face Inara, not knowing what to say. Nothing ever bothered her, she knew that. There was always something wonderful, or fun, or good about almost everything, wasn't there? She realized that her feelings must be written all over her face, as Inaras own features softened even more. The companion rose from her seat, and made her way over to Rico, before sitting again, abandoning the tea she had been making, and pulling Rico down into the seat next to her. "Wheres your... handler, Rico?"

Rico looked at the companion "He, he died... during our last mission. I..." she faltered as Inara pulled her into a quick hug, cutting off Ricos response for a moment. "I gave him what he wanted when he died though... he asked me to do it even." she finished, unsure how to react to the strangers embrace.

"And what was that, Rico?" Inara asked. Rico was confused, why did this woman want to know what had happened?

Rico pondered for a moment, Hillshire was a handler, just like Jean, and he told these people everything. So Rico supposed that it wouldnt hurt to tell this woman what had happened to Jean... the others would ask her soon enough anyways "He, he wanted me to kill the man who had killed his family. So I did, and he died knowing that they had, that they had been avenged, that all we had worked for over the years..." Rico feels her voice hitching, and she tried to fight it.

Rico can see the horror on Inaras face, but she was used to that expression of normal people. She knew that what she did was considered, unnatural, that it frightened most. "How did he die, Rico?"

Rico can feel her face scrunching up again, as the memories play back through her mind, so vivid, so real "Jean... Jean had been captured by Dante, the man who had murdered his family. The man had a gun trained on me, and I had mine leveled at him. Jean... Jean ordered me to shoot Dante through him, so I did."

Were Ricos face not pointed to the floor, she would have seen Inaras aghast, terrified look. She didn't know much about the new passengers and part time help, but she knew that to a cyborg, her Handler was incredibly important. Moreso than their own lives, at least, that's what they had told her before following Mals lead and heading to bed. "So, so you killed Jean?" Inara clarified, trying to buy time.

Rico nods, pulling away from the companion "Yes, because he wanted me too. I always did what Signore Jean wanted, but now..." Rico trails off, unsure of how she had come to be here, pouring her heart out to this woman, or why the woman even cared.

Inara frowns, before replying "Did Jean ever force you to do anything that you disliked? Or keep you from doing things you enjoyed?"

Rico pauses, thinking. She had not liked having to kill Raballo, or Amilio. But he let her go to the sea too, even though it made signore Jean sad. "No." she replies "Whenever it didn't interfere with a mission, signore Jean always let me do what I liked."

Inara nods, smiling sadly "Then, maybe you should try doing what Jean would want you to do, until you know what you want to do again."

Rico nods slowly, confused still as to why Inara was helping her, but understanding what she was saying. "Okay. But, do you mind me asking a question?"

Inara smiles "Of course not, little one."

Rico nods "Then... then why are you trying to help me?" her voice still wavering a little.

Inaras smile fades away to sad confusion "Because we all have pains, and it helps us to help others with theirs. And space travel is not fast, so it is easier to make friends with people your traveling with, rather than ignoring them."

Rico nods, pausing, searching for the words "Thank you, Inara." she replies, before standing up to go to try to sleep. What would Jean want her to do?

_****Broken****_

Treilla followed River the next day, confused "What are-" River cuts the cyborg off and makes a shushing noise, causing the cyborg to finish the rest of her query in a whisper as they walk past Jayne "what are we doing, River?"

"Revenge" the reader replies, still whispering. Treilla, in her confusion, misses the poorly hidden fear on Jaynes face as they finish passing him.

The cyborg stretches, and turns to face River, not breaking her stride "I wasnt that mad, and I dont see how this is any sort of revenge."

River giggles "He is afraid of her. All we have to do is play the part, and wait. Revenge will present herself, and we will only have to do what we would."

Treilla freezes "Who, and what are you talking about?" Had the cyborg been on the crew longer, she would have immediately recognized Rivers last phrase as a clear sign of the young reader having one of her 'bad days' as they called them.

River turns to look at Triella, and shoots the girl one of the most infuriating, patronizing looks she has ever received. However, in the interest of making a friend, the cyborg opts to not comment on it. The readers face quickly shifts to one of contemplation, then that of someone who just remembered something important, before she replies "We only have to wait, and look busy for now."

Triella shakes her head, confused "Then, what do you suggest we do while we let Jayne think we're plotting against him." as she follows the younger Tam into her mosest room.

River shrugs "Talk, become friends, become enemies, become lovers, become sisters. She cant be sure from here."

Triella blushes for a moment, before finally asking "Why are you talking like that so suddenly? You sounded perfectly normal just a few minutes ago."

River pouts "They did things to her mind, at the academy. This is a result, when ge-ge's pills aren't working again, even though she has been 'better' since... then."

Triella simply stares at the reader, perched on her bed, feet swinging off the ground, patiently waiting for the cyborg to reply. "What academy, what did they do to you?"

River pouts, before replying "It was supposed to be an academy for geniuses, with all the most exciting courses, so mother and father sent me there, because they could afford it and she begged. But it wasn't, they did experiments on her mind, cut and moved, prodded and took. And when they were done with that, they made her sleep, put things in her mind, so many things. Things that weren't hers, weren't meant to be hers." River half rushes, half plods through her story, a sad resignation to her telling of it. "When she could think, she sent letters, begged for help, pleaded for salvation."

Triella frowns, before moving over to sit next to River "So, your parents saved you then?"

Rver shakes her head, dejectedly "No, they didn't get the messages hidden in her letters, or ignored them. It was ge-ge who heard her cries. He gave up everything, saved her from the academy, and ran with her. He tries to fix her, make her whole again, make her normal... but its impossible."

The cyborg forces a smile, and pats River on the back, almost spilling the reader from the bed when she nearly forgets to check her strength. Eventually, Triella sighs, and replies "That still doesn't explain why Jayne is afraid of you."

River frowns, before standing up and walking over to her dresser. She slides the bottom drawer open, and pulls out a cloth bundle. Triella recognizes the cloth, being the same or very similar to the material that she uses to keep her knife properly cleaned and maintained. The young reader sets the bundle down on the floor, and unrolls the makeshift package, revealing a small hand-axe, with a curved hilt, and a wicked looking shortsword "She took these from the Reavers on Miranda. She killed 37 of them with these blades, after killing 16 to acquire them."

Triellas face goes blank, unsure how to react to what she is beginning to realize is a girl with more in common with herself and the other cyborgs than any normal girl. "Reavers, Miranda?"

"We went there because she remembered a thought that wasn't hers, about how they had tried to make people better. But they only made monsters, terrible creatures in men's skins that are all rage and hunger, screaming into the void, but only she could hear them. They were boogey-men and campfire stories until we made the transmission. Now the whole verse knows that they made them... but doesnt know what to do about the knowledge." The reader frowns, and returns her blades to their cloth-embraced slumber "We lost so many to get the word out. Lost Wash, lost Book, Mr. Universe wasn't crew, but he was a friend, and they burned him down like all of our other friends. So she became the pilot, since killing the Reavers helped her somehow, didn't make her whole, but glued what was left together more. Ge-ge still tries to fix her, but she can only be fixed so far." River begins to shudder, holding herself together, but barely "Then Zoe left, because she had what she had argued with Wash over for so long growing in her belly. Mal lost his First Mate, and Pilot, so she started to fly for him, because its all her fault."

Triella clucks her tongue, and climbs down next to River, gently draping an arm around the nearly crying reader... and the slight touch is enough to send her over the edge. Sighing inwardly to herself about how much more she was likely to be doing this, and promising to make whoever's fault all of this is pay, she quietly responds "Of course it isn't your fault. Just like it isn't my fault that Beatrice, or any of the other Cyborgs that died fighting alongside me is my fault, even if I was on point."

River forces a smirk through the tears "And she was having a 'good day' today too, until she read you and realized how much alike we are in some ways. It brought back memories..."

Triella frowns, and silently continues to support the Reader until she calms down "I'm sorry... for bringing all that up on you. It, it must have been painful for you to tell me all that."

River wipes at her eyes "Its ok, a show of trust, how friends are made. She wont ask either, but is eager to hear your story from you." as she stands and walks over to collapse backwards into her bed. It is nearly the middle of the day cycle by now, and the reader seems to be preparing to be getting ready to take a nap. So Triella stands, says her goodbyes, and makes her way from the room to track down someone who can give her more answers.

_****Broken****_

Mal stood in front of the screen and took a deep breath. This was going to be tricky. It had been hard enough finding a secure line that the man would not be able to backtrack. Even harder to find a way to ensure that Haymer, not one of his employees, would answer the wave. It had taken half of the day, and Mal was now more than a little agitated, but this needed doing. He punched the button that would initiate the call, and waited. Before long Haymers face appeared on the largest screen that could carry a wave on the ship. By no means huge, but it sufficed "You. Give me one reason that I shouldn't alert the Alliance about your call." Haymer greets Mal, tersely.

"Money." Mal replies easily, as he toys with the idea of toying with the man. He'd be an easy mark, and probably react real well too.

The man scoffs, making no effort to hide the fact that he is working to notify the authorities "I seriously doubt you have enough to stay my hand. But, please tell me what it is that compelled you to contact a man who you stole a priceless artifact from."

The captain smirks "Thought you were smart. Like I said, money, have a bit of business and you seemed to be the man to take it to."

Haymer looks up from the other screen, an eyebrow raised in questioning "Oh?" he asks "Stole an artifact from someone else and was hoping to unload it on me?" still working the other screen at the same relaxed pace, but not immediately shooting the captain down. Which Mal took as a good sign.

Mal shrugs "Doubt the dead care all that much. Found a lost sleeper ship from the exodus fleet, figured you'd be the man to go to if I aimed to sell the artefacts."

The man stops, clearly skeptical, as he asks "Why not just sell them to a museum, or some underworld contact?"

The captains expression remains even as he shifts his weight to his other foot, and replies "Museums dont pay well enough, and I dont have any other contacts that I can get the full worth of most of these things out of."

The man nods, understanding, as he resumes his work tp notify the authorities "Even though I would be well within my rights to take most of whatever it is you claim to have for what you took from me? And what makes you think I would buy whatever artifacts you have? I may like antiques and relics, but hundreds of years old or not, kitsch is still kitsch."

Mal lets his smile return to his face, suppressing a comment about both of them being wronged by the same woman before he replies "I dont, so I took the pick of the loot, and decided to offer it to you as a gift, to smooth things over about the whole Lassiter thing. Ensure we can do business fairly." as he dramatically sets the display case on the table in front of the screen.

Haymer freezes, again, as he eyes up the weapons displayed before him "Those are..." he trails off, clearly recognizing the weapons.

Mal nods "Authentic and real. Not one-of-a-kind, but they may as well be, considerin' how old they are, and the shape their in."

Haymer collects himself quickly "And most museums would pay an arm and a leg to get ahold of these. Why give them to me for free?"

The captain slides the display case from in front of the screen, as he replies "Because you and your rich friends would pay more. I take a loss on the Navies, but there's more rich folk like you then there are museums that can afford artifacts like some of the ones I have."

Haymer scratches at his chin "So, in exchange for your gift, and first choice of which other artifacts to buy, I dont call the authorities on you, and put you in touch with anyone I know who may be willing to purchase earth that was artifacts from a less than reputable source."

Mal nods "Sounds about right to me. How long will you need to prepare your house for a naughty man like myself to stop in."

Haymer shakes his head "Oh no. I will not be entertaining yourself, or your apparent backlog of priceless relics in the same house that Yolanda is in any more than I am doing business with you on your ship."

The captains train of thought grinds to a halt, then hops onto a new and strange set of tracks "Saffrons still with you?" he asks, shocked.

The wealthy man heaves a defeated sigh "On house arrest, and only because she would rather not go to a penitentiary. The best I could do without losing her."

Mal frowns, "Timebomb waitin ta go off, she is." he shrugs "But thats your business, and I dont care to involve myself with her again if it can be helped. If its a neutral ground you want, how does..." he makes a show of going through the the cortex, even though he already has a place in mind "Whitefall, sound. Out of the way, without being deep in the rim. No major settlements to speak of, good place for a quiet deal to go down."

Haymer pauses, actually doing a cortex search, before replying "Moon of Athens, mostly desert. It will be difficult for me to explain the trip away, but its a concession I'm willing to make. How long do you need?" he asks

Mal shrugs "Could be there in a week, less if you want, though the extra fuel it'd burn will make things a bit more expensive for you."

Haymer smiles slightly, as he responds "In a week on Whitefall then. I'll wave you from orbit, and we can decide on a place to make the exchange then, as I doubt you trust me any more than I trust you." before unceremoniously cutting the line. Mal grins triumphantly as he steps back from the screen, rubbing his hands together.

However, his self satisfied pride in how smoothly the setup for the real meat of this job is short lived as he hears a set of somewhat familiar footfalls approaching. He couldnt recognize the cyborgs or wither of the handlers like he could his crew, but he knew that it was one of the cyborgs judging by the space between steps and the weight and sound to them. He turns to see a determined Triella approaching him, her face a mask of indignation, curiosity and anger "Who did it?" she asks tersely as she approaches Mal.

"I aint the prankin' sort girl. And as captain I always keep my hands clean of that sort of thing." The captain lies, hoping to dodge whatever was bugging the cyborg.

Triella, however, clearly doesn't buy it "Right." she deadpans "I was asking about Miranda, the academy, and what happened to River."

The captain freezes "What all did she tell you?" he asks, shocked that his albatross would share such... personal, stories with someone who was almost a complete stranger. "And why do you care'bout our troubles?"

Triella shakes her head, indignantly planting her hands on her hips "I was a child soldier for one of the blackest of government black ops organizations from earth-that-was. Before that I was a sex slave that was nearly the star of a snuff film." she opens her eyes, letting her glare bore into the captain "Why do you think I care?"

Mal falters at the implications that the additional snippet of life story he had just got about the willful cyborg before him sinks in. He hadnt read any of the files on the girls like Simon had, but something inside him began to turn his thoughts on the SWA survivors he now had on his boat "Fair enough, but I need to know how much River told you, and how she did it before I can fill in any gaps."

"That she was sent to an academy, where she was experimented on for no good reason. And that the same people who ran that academy had done a planet-wide experiment that ended up creating some sort of monsters out of innocent people."

Inwardly, Mal lets an impressive stream of mandarin curses flow. He hated what had been done to River. He hated what had been done to the cyborgs, to a lesser extent, as they werent crew, but it pissed him right off just the same. At the heart of it was a fundamental dislike of forcing kids to fight. And by the look in Triellas eyes, she would willingly throw herself against the brick wall Alliance with what he was about to tell her, and the impact would break her as surely as it had broken him "The Alliance did. In Rivers case, they wanted weapons, on Miranda, a way to a more obedient populace."

Triella deflates ever so slightly "Thank you for your honesty captain, most of the time adults just..."

He shrugs "May have a kids body, but if your life was anything like I imagine, there aint much of a little girls mind movin' that body. Lying to you would only make you mad, which is not something that I want to experience firsthand."

_****Broken****_

Henrietta had woken up at a normal time this morning. Or at least thats what Dr. Tam had told her it was. She was in an infirmary on a spaceship, flitting about the starts on some errand of another. It didn't matter, nothing mattered. She had killed Jose, shot him in a fit of delusion. She felt like crying, but after days of doing nothing but, there were no tears left. "How are you feeling today?" the doctor asked, injecting her with her morning medicine. She just stared blankly at him, wondering how he thought she felt. She had killed the most important man in her world just a few days ago. "How are your memories, do you feel ill?" he presses as Hillshire enters the infirmary.

The young cyborg shakes her head "I still dont remember everything, but the last few days are all there. And I feel perfectly normal."

The doctor nods, as he scribbles something on a notepad "Alright." he turns to face her "Henrietta, that is the last injection you are going to get for a while, at least until the withdrawal symptoms start to manifest, and, if you don't mind, a bit longer."

"Why?" she asks, more out of politeness than caring. She didn't want to be alive anymore, so she didn't care if this man could save her or not.

Simon sighs briefly, before responding "Because that, was my first mutation of the conditioning drugs. I doubt that they will be the place to start for a more permanent solution to your shortened lifespans, but getting you through the withdrawals is a good first step to making you better."

"Do you think you'll be able to save them?" the handler asks from where he was standing just inside the door to the infirmary. It shouldn't be him there, it should be Jose, and he should be worried sick, like he always was when she was injured.

Simon purses his lips as he walks over to stand next to Hillshire, looking down at her. She new that there was nothing else he could do for her now, and he was simply waiting for an excuse to leave now. None of the others cared for her like Jose had, and none of them should, she had killed the last man to care for her, after all. "I'm a trauma surgeon, but my life has dictated that I learn how to deal in pharmaceuticals a good deal better than I was trained to." he replies, sadly. "I am... optimistic, that she will pull through." Hillshire nods understandingly as the doctor continues "I'm honestly more worried about figuring out the cure before Rico moves into her last stages. Despite the fact that she has been a cyborg longer, the fact that she never needed additional major memory wipes, and almost never was injured has bought her some time."

"She was conditioned more heavily than any of the other girls here." Hillshire points out, matter-of-factly.

The doctor nods "I know. That is why I hope to move quickly with discovering a cure. When Ricos end arrives, it will be fast and brutal. Her withdrawals will be far worse than any of the other girls, and will likely kill her over a few days, instead of a few weeks, after it takes her off her feet." For a while, the two men stand in silence, looking at the bored uncomfortable Henrietta. They had offered to bring her some of her things, but she didn't want any. Jose had given them all to her, so they all made her sad now. After a few more moments of awkward silence Simon left, followed briefly by Hillshire, though he went in the opposite direction.

For a while, Henrietta was left alone with her thoughts, depressing as they were. The only thing that broke the monotomy of the still, unchanging room was when the Captain and Allesandro walked past. The pairs lively, seemingly inane conversation momentarily overpowering the rhythm of the machines connected to her, taking readings and compiling information for the doctor. A while later the ships mechanic walked in, clearly looking for someone. "Hello sweetie, feeling well?" she asks cheerily, sitting down.

Henrietta nods, deadly "I'm not sick, Simon is an excellent doctor."

Kaylee smiles proudly "I know that. I was wondering how you were feeling."

"Fine" the cyborg replies unenthusiastically.

The mechanic frowns "I dont know you that well, but I know your lying. Losing folk thatre important too you is hard. We all go through it eventually."

Henrietta shakes her head "I wasn't supposed to outlive Jose though. I was supposed to protect him, but I-"

"Dont go thinkin about that. You never meant to do that, so its no good worryin on it. Whats important is that you move on, because Simons not gonna let you die young." the red-head cuts her off, sliding the doctors stool she had been sitting on over to Henriettas bedside "And there aint no good that comes from killin yourself either, so get that right out of your little head. Would Jose want you all mopey and sad like this?" she presses, trying to reprimand the cyborgs foolishness with as soft a voice as she could.

Henrietta pauses befroe she replies "I dont think so... but when he was dying he said-"

Again Kaylee cuts the cyborg off "folk say all sortsa stupid things when their dyin. Doesnt do no good to listen to'em half the time. Whats improtatn is that they thought it was important to make sure they said somethin to ya before they went. So, ignorin whatever it was that you got told that made you wanna take your own life, did Jose ever want you to be anything but happy?"

"Why are you doing this for me?" Henrietta asks after thinking for a while.

Kaylee smiles, breaking her serious facade "I'm doin this cause no matter how much your sister try to cheer you up, you keep on makin yourself more an more sad over what sounds to me to be an honest mistake that came from the side affects of what those ha-duns did to your head. And that aint right." she pauses to breathe "Now, whats your answer to my question, sweetie?"

Henrietta sighs "No, Jose always did his best to make me happy, to spend more time with me."

Kaylee nods "Well there ya go. Just 'cause a bodies dead dont mean what they want changes. And if he was always spending time with you, it sounds like it made him happy to see you happy. So what do ya think its doin ta his poor spirit to see you all mopey an sad like this?" Henrietta nods slowly, indicating her understanding. Kaylee smiles warmly "Not sayin ya gotta get over loosin him right off, just that makin it worse for yourself aint no good though." she stands up, and starts unstrapping and disconnecting Henrietta from the medical equipment "Now, lets get you settled into you room before Triella takes all the good spots in it."

"Am, am I allowed to leave the infirmary?" Henrietta asks as the last of the restraints are removed.

Kaylee grins "Simon said you were celared to leave, provided you werent likely ta shoot someone... or yourself. So I decided to make sure that was the case is all. Hope ya dont mind."

Henrietta flashes a brief smile "Thank you."

* * *

><p>AN: yes, River will be alot better in this series. However, as much good as Miranda did for her psyche, it didnt heal her completely. Expect her to shift from normal to crazy periodically.<p>

That aside, if you read it, please review! Thanks to story stats I know that 20 odd people have read this, but only 1 left a review. Like it or hate it, let me know please! And if you liked it, the reviews help me work faster on updates, as knowing someone enjoyed my story helps me want to get more of it uploaded faster.


	3. Chapter 3

A/N another quickish update. Thanks to crazyidiot78 for the review! Its great to know someone is enjoying this fic.

* * *

><p>Simon walked out onto the catwalk over the storage bay, Kaylee on his arm in a good mood. Things had been quiet for the past several days. His current mutation of the Conditioning Drugs that Henrietta was on seemed to be working, no relapses, no progression of her deterioration, so he had prepared an additional hypo of it should Triella need an injection, or if Rico entered the downward spiral at the end of a cyborgs life as well. All of the cyborgs were gathered in the bay, Triella, Petrushka and River on the floor, chattering about, something. Triella is waving her knife about as she talks, the other girls raptly listening. Further down the catwalk Rico and Henrietta sit next to each other, feet dangling over the ledge, as they lean against the rail, silent and sullen. "Just seems wrong, for those little ones to be so... sad." Kaylee opines from Simons arm, pouting a bit.<p>

Simon shrugs as River says something, that sets Triella to blushing furiously, while she giggles with Petra. "At least the older ones are acting more like they should. And it is nice to see River make some friends closer to her age."

"And what about your sneaking off to Allesandros room almost every night?" Triella cuts through the giggles, and gets the attention of everyone.

Henrietta glances over to Rico, and confides "I snuck into Jose's room once. Thats when I found the kaleidoscope Jose bought me."

Rico nods "I remember, you were so sad when you thought it was for someone else."

Henrietta smiles bitterly, flattening out the pleats of her skirt as she responds "But then he gave it to me."

"Did they pack it away with your things?" Rico asks her sister, once again looking down at the two other cyborgs and River.

"I dont know, I havent gone through my things since I woke up. Looking at Joses gifts would make me sad, I think." Henrietta responds quietly, forcing Rico into an introspective silence.

As this happens, a blushing, stuttering Petra makes one last ditch effort to escape Triellas relentless inquiry about just_ what_ she had been doing with Sandro in his room, in the middle of the night. Giving up on denial and evasion, and making the same pocket reach Simon recognizes from Jayne when he really wanted a cigar, the cyborg turns to River "And what about you? Whos your crush?"

Simon almost feels sorry for his sister as Triella sprouts an impish grin and turns to face the young reader "If I hadn't seen their guns, or asked them about their... work, I wouldn't believe that they were anything but normal girls. Though I cant believe Petra is allowed to smoke. Maybe she sneaks them?"

"How do ya figure she smokes?" Kaylee asks, still on Simons arm as they lean against the railing a few feet away from Rico and Henrietta.

Simon grins, gesturing to Petra as he answers "Its the pocket reach. Same one Jayne does when Rivers annoying the gou shi out of him..." Kaylee giggles in recognition as River slowly backs away from the cyborgs she had been talking with as they list off other crew-members, and the few contacts of the ship they had heard about in their short time on board.

"I dont think you should let Jose's gifts make you sad Henrietta. That isnt what he would want for you. Lets unpack your things." Rico announces, as if reaching some revelation. At that she stands and nearly drags the more reserved cyborg along with her to Henrietta's bunk.

"It isnt, JAYNE, is it?" Petra inquires, causing River to pale and Simons eyes to nearly leap from his head. Its only the stream of disgusted, furious mandarin curses falling from his sisters mouth that keeps him from doing something, drastic.

"And she used to be so polite." Kaylee observes, feigning sadness as Rivers trail of expletives soars to new, vulgar heights at the raucous laughter of the cyborgs "Wonder where she learned that from anyways."

****Broken****

"I didn't know any better I'd say you grew up a few ranches down from me, Sandro." Mal compliments the man as they sit at the dining table, dinner long past, but still working on Sandro and Petras cover.

"Thats the point, aint it? Have someone around that can make certain we arent gettin' ripped off none, provide extra security." he pauses to take a sip from the glass of whiskey he had sitting in front of him "And not let the whole verse know that you got a ship full'a fivehundred year old secret agents an killer cyborg girls of course."

Mal nods, leaning back in his chair contentedly. The meal may have been canned and re-hydrated goods again, but having a few more at the table was beginning to grow on him. He didn't like to admit it, but the Bit had been right, with so many dead or simply gone, they had all been missing the company. "You sure Petra can get the accent and story down in just three days?"

"I'm Sandro's adopted daughter, we're antique dealers from a small shop in one of the cities not too far from the ranch you grew up on." Petra cuts in, dropping into Sandros lap. Something about it seems natural to Mal as he watches, but at the same time, like they just started with it. He'd have to ask Sandro at some point. "You and Sandro were close enough that he was the person you went too after finding the drifting ship and cleaning it out."

Mal nods "And the accent? Cant have you talkin like that around Haymer, he'd know somethin was up, and he's most certainly not the sort we want snoopin in our affairs." he replies, before sipping from his own glass of whiskey.

Petra shrugs, before replying "Not my place to talk at the table where such a big deals goin' down. I'm just along to watch an learn. Daddy'd tan my hide if I blew this on'im."

"Quick study." Mal compliments Petra. His brain then skips a few beats as Petra goes for her handlers drink, and is able to nearly get it to her lips without being stopped by him before Mal interjects "You gonna just let her drink? Ain't she a not supposed to be drinkin bein as young as she is?"

Sandro shrugs "Sometimes she needs to be older for undercover missions. It would be, strange, if she couldn't drink." ignoring Petras pained wince, and hacked cough as the amber fluid passes her lips.

The cyborg in question sets the glass down, scowling "Thats why I learned to smoke too."

Sandro grins "And it only took you a few months to learn. So strange seeing such a smart girl take so long to learn how to do something so simple."

Mals jaw drops open as he stares at the pair, the man making eyes that could only be described as 'lovey' above his mischievous grin, the girl scowling back at him. "Next you'll tell me her first kiss was to help keep cover on a job too."

"Actually..." Petra begins shyly, clearly lost in memory.

"Full on, open mouth-" Sandro begins to explain, already moving his hand behind the cyborgs head, clearly intending to demonstrate.

Mal drops his head into his palms "Dont, just dont say any more, please." he peeks through his fingers to ensure they had stopped, before looking back up and polishing off the last of his drink "If I were a preacher I'd have a real nice sermon for you right about now Sandro, but somehow I doubt taht'd" he freezes, as he spots a familiar head of dark brown, lightly curled hair peek around the corner. "somethin the matter, Bit?"

River steps into the room "They were talking all wrong, thinking wrong. She couldnt stop hearing."

Mal sighs, patting the seat next to him, but, the timid River stays just beyond the door "Bad day, Riv?"

River shakes her head "It started off well, but then they asked her questions, said things that werent true. It was, unsettling."

Mal tilts his head, but an apologetic looking Sandro cuts off his reply "Treilla and Petrushka were teasing her a bit earlier today. I think it may have, put her off." clearly having heard of Rivers condition from Hillshire, or perhaps Triella, firsthand or through Petra, Mal doesnt really push that matter.

"We were just trying to figure out who her crush was." Petra defends herself, weakly, in the face of Mals perturbed glare.

"She never admitted to having one." River shoots back resolutely.

Mal crosses his arms at Petra, who tilts an eyebrow at River and replies "With how much you argued against it being Jayne, you may has well have announced that you wanted to share a bunk with him! It was as plain as day."

Mal blinks once, then twice, as the room falls to silence. River fumes, Petra grins, and Mal is assaulted by the most graphic, revolting, unnerving, unsettling images he has ever had dance before his minds eye. Before the images of River and his 'Public Relations' officer acting out what Petra claimed were the Bits fantasies, Mal pushes up from his seat, and announces "I'll be in my bunk." The irony of his using a phrase usually attributed to the merc in question not escaping him as he stalks off towards the sanity of his room. Not long later, he hears a surprised, and embarrassed squeak from River, followed by the sound of her combat boots pounding a hasty retreat. Mal sighs "I get saddled with a woman'a marryin age for a wife I didn't even want and catch mary hell. He's havin an affair with a ruttin teenage girl an everyone just lets it happen." he grouses to the verse about its own unfairness before dropping into his bunk to sleep.

****Broken****

Rico smiles as she wakes up, stretches, tumbles out of bed, and spins about. Her usual morning routine. In the bunk across from hers, Petra lay sleeping, looking an utter mess. Content, but a mess worse than her blankets from her nocturnal fidgeting. Rico had come to a decision, after talking with Inara, and helping Henrietta unpack her things. Jean wouldn't want Rico to dwell on him if he died, nor would he want her to live her life to be that of a weapon. Maybe at first, when he was training her, but more recently. No, she would still try to preform to his standards, to do well on missions, but she would try her best to live out the rest of her short life happily. After all, they had succeeded, Dante was dead, by her hands, and by extension, Jeans. She may miss him terribly, but she new that after revenge, came normal life again.

So, she did what Jean would want her to do the day before an important mission. She gathered up her weapons, and headed to a good place to clean them. The only table she knew of that was large enough for her weapons was the big one the crew took its meals on. So she carefully cleared it, taking care to not break anything, then, set out a towel, before setting her cleaning supplies off to the side, propping her other weapons up against the wall, and setting down her Dragunov SVD on the cloth, and disassembling it. She would have to sight it in now, but after 500 years, that would be necessary anyways. As she finishes that process, a grumbling, stinking Jayne walks through the room, before freezing to stare at her weapons "Oh, good morning Mr. Jayne." She greets him, as she begins cleaning her favorite weapon.

"Mornin Rico. You sposed to be doin that?" he responds, still ogling her weapons.

Rico shrugs as she rinses out her barrel brush before setting to work with it again "We have a mission tomorrow, so even if I'm not on the active roster, I think I should prepare for it."

Jayne chuckles "Not that girl, I meant pullin that rifle'a yours apart. Gonna mess up its sights terrible bad." clearly, the man is thinking something else over as well, but Rico lets it slide.

"After so long I would need to re-sight it anyways. Besides, these guns are all I have left from Mr. Jean, and I dont think he would like me letting them fall into disrepair."

Jayne nods, before slowly replying "Lemme go git some'a my girls. It aint no fun cleanin yer guns all by your lonesome. Maybe you can tell me about yours some while we're at it."

Rico looks up and smiles "That sounds nice, Mr. Jayne."

The merc chuckles out "Just Jayne. I aint no gentleman, so I dont wanna git talked to like one." before he wanders off to get his gun. As Rico is finishing up with her Dragunov, and preparing to put it back together, Jayne returns, several of his guns under his arms. Rico glances the weapons over, before her eyes fall on one assault rifle in particular. She can tell that it is fully automatic, but also could be a designated marksmans rifle... heavily customized too. Jayne flashes her a grin "So, ya like Veera?" he asks

Rico nods, not taking her eyes off the rifle as she reassembles hers "It looks like a wonderful weapon. What is it?"

Jayne grins even deeper, before telling her all about his Calahan Full-bore automatic, and how he got her. Surprised as Rico asked for more detail on the actual taking of the weapon.

"...so, once he was dead, I jumped from behind what was left of the table I'd been hidin under, and pumped his last buddy full'a lead. Was a mess, I had a few holes in me even." he finishes, grinning with pride at the tale of his martial prowess. Rico, having just finished reassembling the rifle she'd been cleaning moves to set it aside. Just as Jayne had thought, it was one hell of a gun, and he whistle in appreciation "Now, tell me about that rifle'a yours girl."

He watches as Rico pauses to think, before she begins to give him it full specifications, just as he had when she asked him about Veera. "Its the first primary weapon Jean gave to me... my favorite."

Jayne nods, still not fully understanding the cyborg/handler bond, but realizing its importance to her "Impressive gun, whats her name?" he replies to her technical rundown.

Ricos face screw up in confusion "Why would I name my gun?" she asks as she gingerly rests it against the wall, and hefts her MG 3 and moves it to the table.

Jayne lets his jaw hang agape, _damn, they really are that ruttin strong_ he thinks to himself, before managing to answer "Cause its part a takin care of yer gun. How can ya trust sumfin aint got its own name?" as he finishes polishing Veera, and moves to set her aside. "This heres Veera, like I already told ya." as he pats his favorite weapon.

"Aw ruttin hell, what'd I tell you about cleaning guns on the dining room table Jayne?" Mal cuts in.

Jayne had known this was coming, but he supposes that had been half his reason for cleaning his guns with Rico. Now he just hoped Mal wasn't feelin to ornery "Ta not to... but we got a job tomorrow an-"

"Dont care Jayne. You know the gorram rules" Mal bites back, clearly in sore need of some caffeine "You can pick up the Bits turn on septic duty for this. An Rico, I dont care how bad it needs it, aint no way that grease-pig a yours is getting any closer to the table" he addresses the now frozen cyborg "Consider this your warnin – which I dont normally deal in, by the way, I catch you cleanin a piece on the table again an you'll get the same as Jayne did. Now if yer not gonna eat, git."

"Good morning... ta da me, what the hell kinda gun is that Rico." Kaylee cuts herself off, hair still a mess from sleeping, eyes in a bleary state of shock at the sight of Rico hefting the massive support weapon.

"Its an MG 3 light machine gun. Jean got it for me when we had to ambush a convoy of Five Republics supporters. I used it so well that he let me keep her." Rico replies cheerily, happy to tell someone about her gun.

Grumbling Jayne completely ignores Kaylee as he crows "But Mal, I just finished my week, and now yer gonna give me another? Dont you normally just-"

"This is how it is now that we have more guns layin around. Table wasn't cheap, an some of us are more worried about food than guns." the captain sternly cuts Jayne off.

The merc pushes himself up from the table, silent and pissed, collecting his guns, before stalking over to the bowl of apples Rico had put aside, tossing one to the cyborg before announcing "C'mon Rico, lets finish with our girls on the cleanin table I got in my bunk."

Rico reaches out with her left hand to pluck the apple from the air as she replies "Okay Jayne." Kaylees jaw drops the rest of the way to the floor, and Mal lets himself fall back into a chair as Rico hefts the massive weapon in one hand, before resting it on her shoulder. She then proceeds to lodge the apple into her mouth, swing her Dragunov over the opposite shoulder by its strap, stuff her handgun into her belt, tuck her cleaning supplies under her right arm, and finally cradle her shotgun and assault rifle in her free arm.

Before long, Ricos guns are propped up against a wall in Jaynes bunk, opposite his wall of weapons, and the two are again, seated across from each other at a table. Rico looks at the table worriedly "I dont think your table is big enough to service Bessy on."

Jayne barks out a laugh "Good name, though you should'a named that Dragunov first, ifn she's your favorite."

Rico looks at him confused "You mean Bella?"

Jayne chuckles some more, _smart kid... a lot better than most brats _"Quick thinkin' girl. An dont worry, I know how to take care'a big guns. I'll help ya with this girl than we can both move on to our other guns."

Rico nods "Thank you... and, I'm sorry for getting you in trouble Jayne."

The merc waves her off "Ah hell, dont worry bout it none. I'm always in trouble round here. Its only my good looks an cunnin military intellect that keeps me from getting kicked off this boat." as he begins disassembling the front of the weapon, as Rico works through the more tricky portions of the weapon.

Rico smiles "Thank you, then. I dont think I would have liked having to clean the septic tank much."

Jayne nods "It smells bad, leaves ya full-a gou shi, and takes forever. Theres a reason its Mals favoritest punishment. Enough of that, whats the hardest shot ya ever made?" he ambles, trying to get a better picture of the little child soldier in front of him.

Rico pauses, silicon cloth in hand, a greasy piece of her largest weapons action in the other. After thinking for a bit, she replies "Probably when Jean and I had our first mission by the sea."

Jayne winces internally. He may be no good with emotions and words, but he can tell raw wounds, physical or otherwise, when he sees them... usually. "Sorry, didn't mean to make ya think'a him, or, any specific-"

Rico shakes her head a little, sad, but not crying, which shocked Jayne. Lara and Clara had balled their eyes out for weeks after his pa died "He died for a good cause, and he wouldn't want me to dwell, I dont think. And two weeks is a long time, especially for me." she pauses for a moment, thoughtful, before continuing her story "We were at the sea, and had to take out a Padania cell. They tried to run after they spotted us, and Jean ordered me to kill them. I had to run down the pier before I could take my first shot at the boat they were fleeing on. To get the second, I had to jump to a buoy, then use it to springboard to a lighthouse. I took the driver from there, and put a bullet in the last man. He managed to knock me from my perch when he hit just below my foot, and I ended up in the water. Jean saved me from drowning after that." she smirks a bit towards the end, clearly a happy memory, at least.

Jayne lets out a low whistle "Damn." he replies as Rico begins putting her machine-gun back together. "Best I got is a headshot from 500 yards with a bent scope, heh. Nothin special like runin an jumpin. Just a good spot and enough time to figure for the bad scope."

They spend the next few hours trading stories and talking about their guns. Jayne admonishes Rico on only having a 12 gauge, and a general dislike of her CZ-75 after she tells him about it. But when she starts rebutting with the finer points of her MG 3 and Dragunov SVD he is silenced. By the time both of them had finished cleaning their weapons, Jayne had come to the conclusion that Rico want half bad. Normally,he couldnt stand kids, maybe it was the super-soldier side of her, maybe it was her habit of being able to shut the gorram hell up and listen, maybe it was that she would do as she was told right off, but he kinda liked her. And that was a hell of a lot more than he could normally say about a kid.

****Broken****

Hillshire trailed Mal towards the cockpit "Are you sure you dont want me outside for extra security as well? From what you say, we cant trust this Haymer character to not play us."

Mal shakes his head "Cant trust him any more than he can us. I have somethin weird like security in a suit, he just might get jittery. Knows I'm not the sort to have well-dressed, anything. You, an especially Triella, would set off more alarms than a nuke in a hospital Vic." the captian holds up a finger to silence the man, activates the screen and greets it "Haymer, nice to see ya. Where're we meetin?"

The other line goes from fuzzy to clear, and the man replies "I'm sending you some coordinates on the planet. We can meet there, and work from our ships."

"Sounds good. I've got an old friend, same one who appraised all this shiny for me, he'll be sittin in on this little exchange, make sure you dont try ta screw me over. He's teachin 'is girl the trade, so she'll be there too, along with my security."

Hillshire can see Haymer nod on the screen "I have my appraiser with me as well, and two personal guards. It should be a fair exchange then." Mal simply stares at the screen, wary "They arent Federals Reynolds. I'm no fool, and I know that you would not only call off the deal if they were, but recognize any disguised agents. Their my men, and know to keep their mouths shut." he clips off.

Mal nods "Right, see ya dirtside then." as he shuts off the feed.

"And your sure that you only want Triella and I on standby in case things go south tehn. If this man is as rich as you claim he could have more men in his ship." Hillshire presses.

"Vic, I know why yer worryin. But I aint puttin Rico on standby with you an Triella. Dont care how normal ya say she is today, aint no way that a girl just lost the closest thing ta family she ever knew is sane enough to hold a piece, let alone fight straight."

Hillshire sighs. He didn't like not knowing what was going on. He liked cutting things close even less. To him, this whole damn thing just screamed disaster waiting to happen. He forces a bitter laugh "At least I didn't recommend Henrietta. Trust me Captain, I've seen Rico worse off than this on missions. She preformed fine on those."

Mal spins around to face Hillshire. "An she had Jean with her to keep her from jumpin at a stupid time then, didn't she? My boat, my rules. I already told you that its just my good graces keepin you on board. I put up with a whole lot of crap from my crew, but they all know to shut-up and do as their told once a job starts. So you can either deal, or get off on this god-forsaken joke of a rock some call home. Dong ma?"

Hillshire stares down Mal for long enough to let the captain know he was not pleased with his decision, before replying "Sir." and turning to make sure Triella was ready.

"Shotguns and pistols. If things go south its gonna be close and ugly, a rifle aint gonna do no good in a fight like that." Mal shouts to Hillshire as he stalks off down the corridor. Hillshire doesn't bother to respond, he wasn't an idiot, and knew how things would go if they went wrong. As he rounds the corner to enter Triellas room, he hears the captain groan "Gorramit Jayne, no grenades. I dont fix on things goin wrong, and if they do..." the voice fades as he enters his girls room.

"Hillshire, what did the captain say?" Triella greets him as she wipes down her M1897, Henrietta laying silently in her bunk.

"Rico is a no go." he pauses and glances over to the sullen cyborg "Hello Henrietta, how are you today?"

"Well enough, Mr. Hillshire." the reclining cyborg mumbles from underneath her sheets.

"Its almost noon Henrietta, even if you don't have a part in this mission, you should get up, otherwise you wont be able to sleep tonight." Triella chides the younger girl. She then turns to Hillshire "So, just standby still then?"

The man nods as Triella throws on her trench-coat, rests her weapon on her shoulder and makes to follow Hillshire from the room "I dont like it, but the captain isnt having any backtalk, not with a job on today."

Triella shrugs "From what I hear, thats the norm around here. And, we might stop through a town here to pick up some supplies while the ship tops off on fuel."

Hillshire nods again, the gears turning in his head. Whether they tried for permanent employment on this ship, or left once the extended job they were on now was finished, they would need less conspicuous cloths "I'll leave getting us less, conspicuous, cloths to you then. Rico should be able to tag along, Petra and Sandro as well... but I need you to take care of Henrietta as well. She's in no shape to leave the ship right now."

Triella pouts as they reach the cargo hold, and take their place between the bench and wall, underneath the catwalk "Shes a fragile girl. Its a wonder that she hasnt tried to do anything else since..."

Hillshire shakes his head as the ship shakes as reentry begins "Consider it a blessing, Triella. Just keep working to cheer her up. She's durable enough to make it through this, just like Rico did."

His cyborg frowns, hangs her head, and takes a deep breath "I dont think Rico is over Jean yet either. I dont think she'll ever be... just like I would never get over you dying. She's just began to realize that he wouldnt want her to be terribly depressed for the rest of her life, I think."

Hillshire glances about before pulling his girl into a quick, one-armed hug "Dont worry, their both strong enough to survive, just like I know you would be." Triella frowns even deeper, though she accepts, and reciprocates the rare display of affection as the ship shudders from landing. Then Mal, Sandro, Petra and Jayne appear atop the catwalk, and begin moving to meet Haymer.

****Broken****

Mal steps out into the blistering sun of Whitefall, and glances about "Just had to be this ruttin pass, didn't it?"

"Think I recognize this ambush, er spot." Jayne adds, his hand drifting to his gun.

Sandro looks from one man to the other "Mind explaining what your goin on about?"

Jayne shakes his head "Just seems ruttin wrong fer you to sound so much like Mal, and I do mind. Nows a piss poor time fer stories." as he pulls out a cigar, and lights it up.

"Jayne, put it out, we're on a job, and we'll be dirtside long enough fer you to have a few. Gotta look professional." Mal orders without turning around.

Haymers sleek, well cleaned, angular transport swoops in to land as Petra interjects "  
>Just who did you tell to look professional, cap'n?"<p>

Mal hangs his head in defeat "I pay'imn to look scary and hurt folk, not look good. Now could ya not go remindin me how it is that he looks an acts? I do gotta deal with it evry day."

"We've had ta deal with'im too." Sandro adds almost bitterly.

"I scour the ruttin septic, run the gorram incinerator, an this is the thanks I get..." Jayne crows, setting up a folding table as the ramp on Haymers ship descends.

The first down the ramp are a [air of guards, both wearing full suits, and wielding shotguns, next is Durran Haymer, dressed in a plain black tunick and slacks with a pair of angled sunglasses, looking agrivated, and last a mousy looking man wearing hoop glasses and far too well dressed for the world scurries out. "Reynolds. I trust you have kept your end of the bargain."

Mal nods, and presents the display case, setting it down on the table. The mousy man walks up to the case, peering inside "From out here it looks legitimate. No signs of forgery, at least not any worth cracking it open... here." he observes, after testing it with every non-invasive tool Mal knows of, and a few he didn't. "Legitimate." he finishes after nearly fifteen minutes of testing.

"So, we square Durran?" Mal asks as one of the mans guards takes the case inside his ship.

Haymer nods, slowly "Enough. And I would rather you not call me Durran, Captain Reynolds, we dont know each other that well."

Mal does his best to feign injury "Dont see how that works, as we'll be sharin friends soon 'nough. May as well at least act like we can stand each other."

Durran sahkes his head, defeated "Whatever it takes to get this deal over with. I want to expand my collection, not make a new business partner, especially a former Browncoat."

Mal shrugs "Dont see why not. Wars over, and after The Wave, a whole lotta people dissapeared. I'm certain you could use a reliable man to run your shady deals as much as I could use a new place ta get work from."

The other man rubs his temples, nearly spilling the sunglasses from his head "Not now Reynolds. Maybe if my friends can vouch for you, then I MIGHT have a few things I could use a smuggler for. For now just start with the guns. After that we'll see about the kitsch."

"Not all kitsch, more than a bits tools an toys." Sandro offers as Petra arrives with the first gun.

So the day passes, Fedrico Nationalles and Colts, Kalashnikovs, Benellis and Smith and Wessons. Then Motorolas and Gateways, Dells and Razers; designer cloths and childrens toys. "Ready fer my next bit then, Durran?" Mal asks as a particularly ancient brick of a laptop is carted back into Durrans ship.

"No Reynolds, I think you have enough of my money already. I'll have the credits wired to your-"

"Platinum." Jayne cuts him off, speaking for the first time since midday, as the sun begins to set.

Durran forces a smile "Surely your help oversteps himself, Captain, to expect me to-"

"Sorry Durran, but I cant always spend creds. At least needs to be cashy money, up front. I can change out plat when your leads take me coreward, but until then, I gotta keep my boat from fallin out the sky. An out here, that means plat." Mal cuts him off again, face a stone mask. He did not enjoy sitting out in the sun listening to others ramble about gou shi he didn't care about... no matter how good the money was.

Durran frowns, before making a hand motion to his men, who raise their guns, Jayne apes them, his own scatter-gun leveled at Durran "I will pay you how I choose, Reynolds, and you will accept that."

Completely unfazed, Mal retorts "And hows that payment gonna be made? Cause I can guarantee that I got more naughty men on my boat than you do on that little four-seater transport you flew in on."

The man nods "I dont doubt that you do, and I will pay you fourty percent platinum, and 60 to an account at one of my banker friends on Persephone owns. When you see him, you will have your platinum... discretely. I may not have stayed as hard as you did after the war, Captain, but I'm no fool." he slaps down two sheets of paper. "One is the list of contacts, the other is the account number and password."

Mal nods "And the cash?" a sack of coin appears in the mousy mans hand, and is quickly deposited on the paper, keeping the wind from taking it. Again, the captain nods "Nice doin business with ya. Now, if you'd be so kind as to go back to your ship, we can stay professional, and do business again later on. And next time, have at least half the pay in platinum, dong-ma?"

Durran stands up from the table "I'm glad we can agree on that. Dont bother waving me if you anger any of my friends, and if you do, I would appreciate it staying as discreet as our last few exchanges. And if we do business again, I will be certain to meet your demands." and at that, he retreats to his transport. Mal waits until they are well away before simply nodding to his crew, who silently pack the table and unsold goods after Mal collects the papers and money.

"That went well." Mal happily chirps as Serenities cargo door closes behind him.

"Well? They pulled guns on you! They didn't as much as you asked up front, and it's going to take at least another week for us to get to that money!" Triella angrily exclaims as she steps from the shadows, raising her shotgun as she unloads it.

"But we got paid, and it'll be enough to keep us in the air." Mal replies, still grinning, completely opposite of the grim mask he had kept plastered on his face until well after Durran had left.

"Which is a good site better than we can normally say." Jayne grumbles "When do we get our pay, anyhow?"

Mal smirks "Tomorrow morning. Figure we may as well fuel up at Whitefall city, give the SWA folk a chance to update their wardrobe, acclimate to the times. Besides, I gotta make sure he didn't short us."

Hillshire steps up behind Triella, resting a cautionary hand on the aggitated cyborgs shoulder "What did Jayne mean, 'better than normal' Captain?" worry on his voice, controlled as it is.

Mal shurgs as he passes the par "We havent fallen outa the sky yet Vic, and I dont aim on stoppin that habit any time soon."

* * *

><p>And so the job begins in earnest. The next episode will have a bit more action, I think.<p>

If you read it, please Please PLEASE _PLEASE_ review. It really helps me stay motivated, even if its just a short thing. hell, I'll take flames and criticism as well, just so long as people acknowledge that they were interested enough to read this far.


	4. Chapter 4

First off, thanks to DrakeDarkblade, , and stalker grike for the reviews. You guys rock.

Second, I dont own Serenity/Firefly, Gunslinger Girl, or, now that I think back t a reference I made in an earlier chapter, this particular take on Jaynes family. I am borrowing that idea from dayzejayne and her awesome fic The Firefly Chronicles (read it if you havent already, no really, do it) I mentioned them in passing, and forgott to mention that they werent my idea in that chapters authors nots, and felt guilty about it. SO I'm doing that here (and will probably do so again in the chapters where those characters feature more heavily as well, haha.)

And now, without further delay, here is chapter 4 of Broken Toys.

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><p>Mal steps off of his ship into the outskirts of Whitefall City, and immediately has to fight the urge to get back on-board and fly somewhere else. The city was dirt, even by border world standards, more shipping crates and shacks than proper buildings. What buildings there actually are are as filthy and run-down as the folk, none of whom look terribly friendly. His crew all wander off to see to their own business, but Mal lingers, watching the two cyborgs that will be heading out into the city. Triella, in a plain skirt, one of the white button-downs she has, and her black trenchcoat, which she is using to hide her trench-gun, is clearly as pleased to be in this city as the rest of Mals crew. Leaving exactly one soul leaving his ship that seems to be looking forward to this outing.<p>

As the older cyborg snorts in derision and sets off into the city, having taken only a second to take in the sight of it, Rico gapes in awe. "You actually like this place, Rico?" the captain asks the cyborg. Rico straightens the tan jacket she is wearing over her plain shirt, and using to hide her gun, before taking in a deep breath, and replying "I'm not certain. It is the first city I've seen that isn't on earth, my first time off the ship since I woke up... and its so, different, from what I normally get to see."

Triella sighs, halts her stride, and turns to interject "I'd take the stagnant underbelly of Venice over this dump. I dont know if I'll even be able to find what Hillshire needs here."

The captain shrugs as he sets into motion "Its rough, but its a functioning city. All the necessities and even a few places to quench your thirst if ya don't mind a glass that ain't exactly clean." He doesn't notice that he isn't alone at first, after passing the pair, but Rico walking just behind him and to the right becomes obvious as she flits about as she walks. "Need help findin' somethin' Rico? Because all I'm doin is getting the ship fueled up an headin back to it."

The cyborg doesn't respond at first, clearly thinking, before she replies "I don't know, most of the shops have their signs in Mandarin, and I need to find a place to buy the supplies I need to recycle the rounds for my Dragunov, as it isn't a common type of ammunition."

Mal shrugs "Suppose I can help ya out ying chi. Just don't cause any trouble while I set up our refuelin."

Rico nods and follows along in her previous silence. The docking center is nothing special, just a counter with a bored, dirty looking attendant behind it, and a small crowd of folk milling about looking for parts, fuel, or simply paying the docking fee. Brown and purple are still the most popular colors, as they have been for nearly a year since The Wave went out, and the tensions are clearly high. Mal falls into line behind the few other men that need to do business at the counter, and begins to wait.

****Broken****

Triella stalks the dusty streets in search of a cloths shop, and maybe a place to get a souvenir of some sort. Not that she particularly wanted to remember this place, it was simply a habit she had fallen into over the years. She steps in some horse shit, and moans out to no one in particular "I hate this city."

"New in town?" an unfamiliar voice asks from behind. Triella wheels around to see a boy, about her physiological age, though, with the growth stunting effects of the conditioning drugs she most likely has a few years on the scruffy teenager. As she continues to size the boy up, he grins nervously, and runs a hand through his messy, greasy hair "Sorry if I'm being presumptuous, but you aren't dressed like anyone who lives here, an look lost. I can help if ya like."

Triella sighs, and, ignoring the fact that the boy is dressed in dirty working slacks and a dingy, faded brown shirt, with hair to match, and was likely to try something with her, replies "Sure. I just need to get some things for my... father, before our ship leaves Whitefall. He usually does the shopping, and I cant read all the signs." It probably wasn't the smartest thing to say, but the weight of her Winchester on her back, and feel of the few hypos of Dr. Tams modified conditioning drugs in her pocket reassure her.

The boy grins "Great! What did you need to get?" as he falls into step with the again moving Triella.

"A whole new wardrobe for him. All of his got burnt up on our last job." the cyborg replies, hoping the prospect of a naked man roaming about will quell the conversation as she digs through her memories of Mimi in hopes of remembering some tips on how she is supposed to act in a situation like this.

"Job, ship... what does your family do for a living..." the boy trails off as he leads them towards a larger shop.

"Triella, and its just me and my father. We work on a transport ship, but the holds big enough that the captain does deliveries more than he moves folk around." she replies as easily as she can. She usually left the cover-stories to Hillshire, and most of the time they didn't have to give one anyways.

"What about your ma?" the boy asks, genuine curiosity on his face. Triella just levels a disapproving glare at the boy. His face falls, and some of the spring drops from his step "Oh. I lost both of mine in the raid a few years back, been on my own since then." he bitterly laughs "If I hadnt been in the Waterin' Hole" he tilts his head back towards a bar on the opposite side of the street "I'd be like those chun zhus walkin around all done up like purple-bellies actin as if th'Liance'll save em from the Reavers. Names Atton by the way."

Triella nods as they enter the shop, clearly one that sells clothing, though not much of it looks to be new. "Nice to meet you, Atton." she replies after letting the silence hang for a while, acting the part of someone lost in thought for the sake of the cover she had inadvertently walked into. She begins wandering the store, slowly picking halfway decent items for Hillshire, as well as a few for herself. Atton looks bored, but doesn't run off either, which surprises Triella, as she would have left long ago.

****Broken****

Rico sits on a bench in the small building that is the docking center. The captain looks impatient, and the people in front of him are moving slowly, which isn't helping his clearly bad mood. Rico doesn't mind too much, and there's nothing she could do about it if she felt inclined to help the situation. Most of the people are armed, which makes Rico more than a little edgy, the scent of gunpowder, dirt, oil, and what she can only assume is starship fuel thick in the air. A few people had tried to talk with her, but she must not have been very good conversation, as they all left shortly after sitting down. She doesn't mind the solitude though, it gives her more time to think, and she knows that she still has a lot of that do do. Will she try to stay on the Serenity after the job the captain started when he found her and the others, or try to find some other way to live out what was left of her short life? She had seen a lot of children out on the streets, and she knew that she didn't want to be like them, but didn't know what she could do for a living either.

The cyborg heaves a sigh, and pushes up from the bench, slowly stretching her arms and back, before putting her arms up and resting the back of her head in her hands. She meanders the small building, no destination in mind as she waits for the captain to finish his business. She doesn't think that Jean would have wanted her to stay sad about him, but she doesn't know what to do without him either. Finally stopping at the only window along the back wall, Rico props her elbows on the sill, and drops her chin into her hands. Normally she would ask Jean what she was supposed to do when she was confused like this, but he was gone. Idly she notices the Captain speaking with the fat, unwashed man at the counter. She rejects asking anyone on the _Sereneties_ crew for help with this, she didn't know them well enough. She could ask Triella, but then again, the older cyborg probably wouldn't know what to do in her situation either.

Rico sighs again, when a familiar sound perks up her ears. Shortly after she hears the weapons being readied, she hears a group of men burst into the building. One of them fires his assault rifle into the ceiling, shouting out "EVERYONE ON THE GROUND! NOW!"

Rico doesn't move at first, as she hears the captain cursing in mandarin, and another man add "Weapons on the ground, slowly. There don't have to be no blood here, but if any of you don't listen, there will be."

"Platinum, valuables, I want all of it in the- HEY! GIRL! ON THE GROUND!" the first voice adds, shouting angrily at the end.

Rico doesn't think, she had been trained not to in situations like this. Her hand goes to the inside of her jacket and grasps her CZ-75. The men may not be Padania, but they most certainly weren't law abiding citizens either. She spins around as she draws her weapon, leveling it at the shocked leaders chest, before pulling the trigger thrice, puncturing his right lung twice, and heart once. As he falls, she idly notices that these men are wearing neither of the most popular colors, purple and brown. The second man falls as the thirds jaw goes slack, and Rico notices that they look thinner, dirtier, and more, sad, than any of the other people she has seen today. The third man has his rifle halfway to his shoulder when Ricos bullet hollows out his skull, and the fourth and final man throws down his weapon and his hands up. "Please girl, don't do it. I, I got roped inta this by tha others. Please, just let the sheriff take me in. I wont cause you no more trouble, please."

Rico tilts her head to the side, and thinks. The captain doesn't always do legal work, and on a planet this poor, there may only be one or two civil servants. It may take all day for them to arrive, and the captain didn't want to stay here that long. "I'm sorry, but your still a bad man, and I don't have time to wait for the sheriff." Rico replies, before pulling the trigger one last time, wondering if this is how Jean would have had her handle this situation, if he would be proud of how she preformed.

As the still bleeding corpses begin to cool, the captain breaks the deepening silence, not even bothering to rise from the floor "Ta ma de. "

****Broken****

Triella freezes as she approaches the counter with her purchases. The sound of gunfire was nothing new to her, but, the rattle of an assault rifle, followed by a series of handgun shots, than nothing was, worrisome. Had Rico gotten into trouble? "Everything alright Triella?" Atton asks, breaking her reverie.

Triella shrugs it off "Yes, I just heard gunfire somewhere in the city is all. Do you think everything is alright?"

Atton shrugs, and does a poor job of hiding his shock when he notices the wad of cash Triella has in her pocket "Not exactly the Core here. Gunfights are a regular thing, an I don't know anyone who was at the docks today, so it should be fine far as I care."

Triella finishes the exchange in silence, simply nodding to her new acquaintance by way of response. Its not that she dislikes the conversation, or was overly worried about Rico it was the unfortunately familiar burn of the onset of an episode of withdrawal sickness from her conditioning drugs that gives her pause. She steps out of the building, bags under her arms, squinting against the sun "Thanks for the help Atton, but I think its about time I got these bags back to my ship."

The boy frowns "Its only been a few hours... an what about lunch? I know that the city don't look like much, but it has its good spots if ya know where to look." Triella inwardly grimaces, she had been with the boy all morning, and plenty of locals had seen her with him. They had seen him be as perfect a gentleman as you could expect in a place like this, and seen her not react negatively to it. If she tried to piss him off to escape now, the people would be on his side, may even force her to eat with him.

She sighs "Fine, you win. Just let me go to the bathroom and I'll meet you outside, okay?" Triella finds the bathroom easily enough, and quickly locks herself in. Injecting the poisonous medicine doesn't take very long, the dull burn of the liquid spreading through her bloodstream slowly heightening her senses, lifting a fog from her mind. However, as she leaves the restroom, she finds that the dose hadn't quite cleared all of the proverbial fog away, much to her chagrin.

"Better?" the boy who had waited for her patiently asks, allowing her to take some, but not all of the bags.

Following Atton towards what is either a small cafe or a used furniture and food shop as she replies "As good as can be expected, all things considered."

Of course, Treilla had been obliquely referring to her condition, but Atton took it as a hint that it was _that_ time of the month. Surprisingly, he is undeterred "All things pass I s'pose. Hope ya don't mind chow mein." he tacks onto the end of his attempt at philosophizing.

Triella cocks a grin "As long as it isn't cat." she deadpans as the two set down her bags at a table and make their way to the counter.

Chuckling, Atton replies in a voice that could either be serious or joking "Don t worry, bout yer allergies. Granny can't afford nothing other than beef an pork."

"Granny? I thought that all your family had been..." Treilla trails off in an attempt to be gentle with the topic. Atton said it had been a few years, but wounds like that stayed raw for quite a while. She still felt the loss of Ange, Beatrice, and all of the other cyborgs that she had come to see as her sisters, and had died from time to time.

The local shrugs "That's just what I call'er. Took me in after my parents died. I work'er restaurant, she keeps me fed and gives me a place ta sleep." as he rings a bell on the counter.

Not long after, a kindly looking older Asiatic woman hobbles out of the inside of the shop to the counter on the outside of the building "Well I'll be, little Atton finally found im'self a girl. Offworld too... how d you manage that one boy?"

Atton blushes a bit, as does Triella while the former replies "We're just getting some food together Granny. All I did was herlp'er find some sundries her pa back on their ship needs. Took a bit an we got hungry is all."

The older woman nods in mock belief as she spoons out food into a pair of bowls. "Since you did a favor you didn't have to, an I'm doin well today, these are on me. Now go eat, both'a you are too thin by half."

****Broken****

Jayne was about to make his way into a bar for a quick drink when the Captains voice cut him off. Hopin ta hell that it wasn't U-day an the captain had got himself into trouble again, Jayne turns and asks "What is it Cap'n?"

Mal shrugs "Rico here just sorted out a bit'a trouble down at the docking center. Course that means bodies an a real compellin argument for me makin a child soldier. I aint exactly welcome around town right now."

"Whats it got ta do with me?" Jayne replies, leaning up agianst the bar and crossing his arms on his chest.

"I would like it if you could help me find a bullet reloader so that I can recycle rounds for Bella. And I dont want to be swindled either, but I cant read mandarin yet." Rico answers for the captain.

Jayne sighs "Take it we're leavin soon as we're all back on the ship then? Today?" as he gestures for Rico to come with him.

Mal nods "Aint exactly run off the planet, but we aint welcome right now either. 'Parently the sheriff knew the chun xhu tried ta rob the dock center were up to somethin. No one particularly liked the bastards, but..."

"Didn't want'em dead either." Jayne finishes for the captain. Lamenting his dry throat Jayne nods and pushes off from the wall "Come on Rico. I know a guy should be able ta git you set up... if ya have a bullet fer'im ta work off of. Better if ya have a few."

As they turn down a side street, Rico hands Jayne a few bullets for her Dragunov she fished out of her pocket "The captain isn't mad at me, is he?" she asks, sounding almost confused.

Jayne shakes his head "Nah, he'd'a let ya know if he was. More shocked than anything I reckon... how'd ya stop that robbery anyhow?"

Rico shrugs "They didn't notice the little girl waiting by the window. So I killed them... I might have let the last one live, but Mal didn't seem to want to stay here very long, and police always make you stay at the scene longer. What does 'Ta ma de' mean?" she asks at the end, causing more than a few locals to freeze in their tracks at the sight of such a sweet looking little girl cursing like that and not getting chastised by the man they could only assume was her father, uncle, or some other family member.

Jayne chuckles "Fuck... fuck me blind... depends on how ya wanna translate it really." he pauses, looking about before turning down another side street "an I thought you were in a black agency, no paperwork, no law..."

The cyborg glances about, clearly noticing that they were now in the 'bad' part of Whitefall city... if such a distinction could be made "Sometimes when I was undercover I had to be at the site of the kill, to make sure that no one suspected foul play." she spins about, hopping up on a scrap of what was once part of someones house, or shack, more appropriately "And once, Jean and I had to stay because we were witnesses to a different killing by accident. It took all day for the police to get to us, and Jean was very angry about the wasted time. I had to train double the next day to make up for it."

Jayne shakes his head "Now that aint right. I can see getting punished fer somethin was your fault, but catchin hell for somethin ya didn't even do?"

Rico just shrugs as Jayne stops outside a shop "Jean may have been... adamant that I train often and well, but it was worth it."

The merc knocks on the door, before asking "How d'ya figure that? Aint like ya have a very lengthy life ahead'a ya, and spending it trainin cant be the best way to use what ya got."

The younger of the two tilts her head to the side, thinking a bit, before she replies "I suppose your right. But, I never sustained any major injuries, and barely ever received any minor ones thanks to all of my training. I... I think it may be why I haven't started showing signs of addiction to and withdrawal from the conditioning drugs yet, and the others have."

The pair falls into silence for a while, thinking. Eventually though, Jayne breaks it "Let me do the talkin inside girl, Marv likes ta rip off idjits, an he knows I ain't, but you..." the merc trails off, before pushing off from the wall, and forcefully beating the door, while bellowing "I GOT BUSINESS FOR YA MARV, NOW OPEN THE GORRAM DOOR!"

Moments later the door slides open but a hair, and a slice of a mans face can be seen. The door then slams shut, and the sound of locks being released can be heard, before the door opens, revealing a fat man in dirty, stained gray shorts and a 'wife-beater' muscle shirt. He is fat, unwashed and unshaven, his beard as scraggly and greasy as the thining hair falling down to his shoulders. "Sorry Cobb, thought it was a collector come at me again. What can I do fer ya... an whose the girl?"

"Friends kid I gotta watch. None'a yer business." Jayne replies, as he lights up a cigar and follows the other man into the dirty, poorly lit shop.

"Fine, no skin off my back. Just tryin to be friendly is all." Marv replies, plowing through the detritus like an elephant through an antique shop. "Now, about this work ya got for me..."

Jayne waits until the man sits behind a cheap bit of furniture that one could generously define as a desk, before setting three of the bullets for Ricos Dragunov down on it "Got me an antique gun. Real beaut she is. Problem is that I cant find no extra bullets fer the girl at a decent price."

Marv picks up one of the bullets in his bony, dextrous hands, turning it over a few times "Can see why, looks like it belongs next to a gun in a museum..." he pulls a small screen out of one of the drawers, and begins tapping away at it for a few minutes, before looking up and adding "Thousand plat fer the machine. Casing, powder, primer an the actual bullet ta use the machine ta put together'll be extra. But I can fab enough for a few thousand reloads for a decent price."

Jayne just glares at the man, and ashes his cigar on the small computers screen "400 for the machine, and another 200 for as many supplies for reloads you can crank out fore my boat leaves tomorrow mornin."

"Double both numbers an MAYBE I can work something out." Marv replies, grinning a holey, decaying smile.

Jayne growls "Just cause I like you, an the work ya do don't mean I'm one'a the suckers ya normally rip off. Remember what one'a them jobs I had back home on Beylix was 'fore I left?"

Marv sighs "Five-hundred for the machine, three-hundred for the reload supplies. Up front."

Jayne reaches into his pocket and slaps down a large wad of cash "For the reloadin machine. We'll see about the supplies once I see what you got for me." Marv sighs, and makes a shooing motion. Taking the cue, Jayne and Rico leave his home and shop. Once outside Jayne holds out his hand "Owe me 500 plat outa yer cut Rico."

The cyborg nods, reaches into her jackets inside pocket, and hands Jayne her carefully folded bills "He smelled... different."

Jayne barks out a laugh "Dont gotta be so ruttin polite all the time girl. Remember that you gotta blend in iffin ya dont wanna get fingered as an easy mark or a plant now. An yea, Marv stinks, its what happens when a man just up and stops caring."

Rico nods "Can we trust him?"

Jayne shakes his head "Not as far as you can throw him... but he's afraid of me, so we don't gotta worry about getting ripped off. Now lets find some food before we take off again and are stuck with the processed gou shi we have ta eat on the ship."

Rico looks at Jayne, confused "There were apples on the ship until a few days ago..."

The merc shrugs "Part of our pay from a different job, don't normally get ta eat that good." Jayne notices out of the corner of his eye Ricos poorly hidden guilty expression. She must have eaten quite a few of them... oh well, he was never much a fan of apples anyways.

****Broken****

Triella suppressed another sigh, it wasn't that Atton was boring, she just had better things to do with her time. Plus, she could feel that she already needed another dose of Simons mutation of the conditioning meds. Mimi would have known how to handle a situation like this, Triella, she was clueless. And to top it all off, she could tell that she was being watched. Not observed, or followed, but watched... observed really, by all the other local boys that passed by. Even with as little socialization outside the SWA she had had before waking up on the sleeper ship, she knew why, she was clean, well spoken, exotic, and with Atton. She now understood why he had chose a table outside the small eatery, to show her off. Finishing his latest story, Atton continues to ask "So, what ship are you and your father on?"

As Triella weighs answering truthfully with lying, she also re-affirms her decision to end this as quickly as she can, and avoid this bastard if she ever ends up in this city again. So distracted is she by her internal dialogue, and all the other people watching them, that she fails to notice the one set of eyes that should have set off internal alarms. The glowing red cybernetic eyes, clearly replacements judging by the scars, rested in a scarred, bitter looking head. The man hadn't been born here, but he was as good as a local after the years of living on Whitefall. "The _Serenity_." Triella eventually replies, not elaborating past that. Atton was clearly fumbling for a way to keep the conversation going, and Triella was happy enough to let him falter, it gave her an excuse to leave sooner.

Unfortunately Triella is so preoccupied by making Atton squirm for trying to tote her around like some air-headed bit of arm-candy that she fails to notice the potential threat. The man with the replacements eyes features shift to grim, wrathful recognition for a brief moment, before he stops, spins on his heel, and sets off back into the city. "What sort of work does the _Serenity_do?" Atton eventually asks, looking increasingly desperate to hold Triellas attention

****Broken****

Henrietta sits in the cargo hold, legs dangling off the catwalk, thinking. She missed Jose, but... "She doesn't know what to do to move on either." River fishes the thought from Henriettas mind, startling the cyborg.

"I don't know though." Henrietta pouts as River plops down next to her on the grating.

River shrugs "You will find a way, the strong always do."

Still pouting, Henrietta looks over to River "I'm not though, I'm not strong like Rico, or Triella, or even the _Serenitys_ crew."

Rivers face contorts into a mask that even Henrietta, who had spent most of the past few weeks holed up in her room or on Simons bed recognizes. _Your such a boob_, the reader observes without even opening her mouth, before she actually replies "I could give you examples to the contrary without looking through your mind, without even looking at ge-ges records." river pauses, her face becoming serious, her voice lyrical as she adds "Could have taken the easy way out, followed your promise, his last order that was a lie. But you didn't."

Henriettas face sours, and her shoulders slump just a little more "I should have, I'm useless now."

River shakes her head "She is as skilled a killer as Jayne, as me, that's always useful on the edge."

"But I cant do that anymore. I only ever made corpses for Jose... I, I couldn't do that for anyone else." Henrietta rebuts sadly.

Rivers lips purse, clearly getting frustrated "Then learn, your smart, heal Mother with Sunshine, the crew with Ge-Ge... fly Serenity like River does. Moping and grieving solves nothing." before heaving a sigh at henriettas blank, disbelieving, pitiful expression, and stalking off back into the ship.

Mal stepped onto his ship, the refueling crew finally finished. He heaved a sigh, he was glad that Rico had stopped the robbery an all, its just that he wouldn't be able to come back here for a few months while the locals cooled off about the whole child soldier deal. "Sittin watch 'Etta?" he asks the sulking cyborg on the catwalk.

She shrugs "No, I'm just thinking Captain Reynolds, was someone supposed to be on guard?"

The captain shakes his head "No real need for it on a backwater like this."

"Spoke a bit too soon there Reynolds." an angry, authoritative voice rebuts.

Mal turns around to see a man with heavy facial scars, and _two_ cybernetic eyes. He just groans as a few hired guns start moving further into the ship, weapons already drawn "Didn't I shoot you in the head Dofson?"

The man snarls "Twice, and my names Dobson you back-birth. On top of that, you left me for dead both times... really should learn to be more thorough about killing a man." as he roughly shoves Mal to the ground, and presses his gun against the back of Mals head.

The captain grimaces at the blow to the head that came with the shove down to his knees, and deadpans "Shouldn't you be pretty much broke from that whole, dyin twice deal?" shrugging as nonchalantly as he can. Four armed men striding past him into the _Serenity_.

As the sounds of struggle begin to echo out from deeper in the ship, luckily without the sound of any gunfire. Dobson waits until the sounds of struggle begin to die down, before replying "It did. Lucky for me there's more than just me in the verse who wanna see you dead Captain." as the man who had stopped at the shocked Henrietta pushes her to her knees in front of the Captain.

Mal suppresses another groan. _Great, Niska's still pissed_ he think to himself as the hired guns make their way back to the cargo bay. First comes a seething River, followed by Hillshire, Simon and Kaylee, all three at gunpoint. Its instantly clear to the captain how it went down. First they took Simon, and probably Kaylee... used them to get leverage on River, otherwise she'd have taken down Dobson already. He really isnt sure how they got Vic, but then again, there's not a whole lot a man can do with a gun to the back of his head. "Mind tellin me how it is you survived at least, seein as I'm a dead man anyways?"

Dobson looks at the gathered crew, and his four accomplices binding them "Seeing as we're still short a few members of your crew... even with the few you seem to have picked up and the others you lost, yes." the hired guns finish binding the assembled crew, and move behind Dobson, leaving Mal as the only one with a gun actively on his head; and still facing his crew. "I'm not sure if you keep up on ghost stories, but the site of the Battle of Sturges is haunted. All those lost spirits finally had enough of scavengers sneaking in between Alliance patrols to defile their graves."

"And my employer got wind of that. Mr Niska doesn't believe in ghosts, but men with grudges are _far_ more believable once one learns the entirety of a story." one of the goons fills in, a feral grin plastered across his face.

Mal lets his head drop "He still keen on makin' an 'example' outa' me then?"

"A particularly effective one, considering that you have seemingly evaded his wrath for so long." Dobson replies, grinning almost as bestially as the goon, who bears a strong resemblance to Niskas late enforcer 'Crow'.

"What about my crew? Ain't Niskas quarrel with me?" Mal presses, hoping to at least save their skins... so that they could save his again. Niska wasn't the sort to let a matter like the one between the two of them end on some backwater mudball like this... or as quickly as a bullet through the brain.

"He does not want them interfering with your execution again." The goon answers.

"And I thought, what better way to hurt Reynolds than to make him watch his crew die. Sure, I've been promised the kill, among other... considerations, from Mr. Niska. But I still need something to whet my appetite, fill my stomach just a bit before that time finally comes. A shame you wont be able to see that whore Zoe die, but the man sent to deal with her is under strict orders to take his time... and make _plenty_ of recordings for you to watch." Then, Hillshire grins.

The only warning Dobson and his men get is the sound of a few bags hitting the dirt, Hillshires grin, and Attions shocked, terrified cry. Triella heard enough to make her decision as she approached, her Winchester in her hands before her bag even hits the ground as she launches into action, trench-coat flowing behind her like a cape. One round throws the man left on guard forward, toppling Dobson when it strikes him. The next two gunmen are downed before they manage to react, the leftmost member of the impromptu firing squad felled in the same manner as the now dead guard, the next man to the right taking the truncated butt of the shotgun to his face, before another blast pulps his head.

Triella spins low, flowing with her momentum and drawing her knife as the other two men fire at where she was, not expecting her speed, or her at all, really. The cyborg leaps over the struggling Dobson, and crawling Mal, the latter moving towards the corpses in search of a gun to help the cyborg out with. A few rounds graze Triella as she sails through the air, but it is not enough to stop her, or the knife as she embeds it in the closer mans throat. She lets the man bleed out, and his body to cushion her fall as she shifts her trench-gun back into both hands. Moving faster than the last gunman can track, she rolls forward off the knifed man, and up into his chest. "Shit." is all he can manage as the shotgun is shoved forcefully into the mans gut, before he even has time to stumble back the gun is fired, throwing his body across the cargo bay.

Mal finally gets to his gun as a wrathful Triella strides over to Dobson, her movements far to calm for the anger on her face. Conditioning or no, she cared for Hillshire, and by going for him, they had made this personal. As Mal stands up, she levels her Winchester at Dobsons face, and pulls the trigger. "Ruttin hell, you really weren't joking around when you told me what your girl was capable of." Mal opines, looking over to Hillshire as the rest of the world slowly comes back into focus for Triella. Atton running like hell, the gurgling of the man with the throat wound gasping for air that wouldn't make it past the ragged wound, the moans of the first man she had shot dying painfully, Kaylees terrified whimper.

"What should we do with the bodies?" she asks, reclaiming her knife, and wiping it off on the dying mans shirt as he slowly soils himself.

"We'll throw'em on the mule an dump the things once it gets dark, for now they can stay. Don't see any need ta risk aggrivatin' the local law any more than we already have." Is the captains response.

****Broken****

It is dusk before Rico, and Jayne return, Petra and Sandro having returned shortly after the fight. The first thing Jayne notes are the corpses "Aw hell, I miss another fight?" Jayne grouses upon entering the cargo bay.

"That's two today Jayne." Rico notes cheerfully, a big box in her hands as Mal simply nods, looking up from the mules controls, Triella and Vic still going over them in an attempt to remember what does what on it. They make the mess, they can clean it up, Mal figures.

"Who came at us then? Thieves lookin' fer our ship?" the merc presses as Rico cheerfully flees Jaynes glare, box tightly clutched in her hands.

"You almost had his ear once." River answers from the catwalk, leaning against the rail, looking bored.

"Lawrence? How the ruttin hell he afford ta hire guns?" is Jaynes reply "An didn't you shoot him in the head?"

"Twice." Mal replies, stepping back from the mule as Triella begins loading corpses, the floor cleaned long ago.

"It certainly does call in to question just what was between the mans ears." Hillshire notes from the mules driver seat, as he begins its start-up sequence, now clad in a plain red button-down shirt and gray slacks instead of his typical suit."

"An by extension the intelligence of Alliance federals." Mal smugly notes.

"An the spare guns?" Jayne presses, leaning against the side of the cargo bay door, allowing the mule to pass.

"Some mobster named Niska." Triella answers over her shoulder as the mule hits the end of the ramp.

"Aw hell." Is Jaynes reply as Triell and Hillshire ride away from the city and into the fading sunset to hide the corpses.

* * *

><p>If you were wondering about Dobson, he's the fed from episode one of Firefly, and he is alive in the comic Those Left Behind. Of course, he "dies" in that comic as well, so I figured having it be a false alarm again would be fun.<p>

Please review, ect, ect, and thanks for reading.


	5. Chapter 5

First off, thanks to Kairan1979 and DrakeDarkblade for the reviews. Yea, I had a great time writing the Dobson bits :D

This is where the standard "I neither own the characters, or profit form this fic" bit goes. And now it has been placed.

* * *

><p><em>Serenity<em> drifted through space, crossing the distance between Whitefall and Athens at a leisurely pace. Inara was still working on that planet, Mal was working out the deal with their contact on the planet from Haymer, and life was generally going on. "Are you sure that we shouldn't contact Mrs. Washbourne? That man said that his employer had sent-"

"One man" Jayne interrupts Hillshires questioning of the doctor from his perch on a chair at the far side of the common room "Just one man, an I aint never seen any one man could give Zoe trouble."

Triela looks from the merc, to the doctor, to her handler, and interjects "But hasnt it been long enough that her child has been born? What if the assassin goes for the child?"

Simon purses his lips, and replies "Then I feel even more sorry for the assassin sent after her. Theres no way she would let anyone harm her child, especially with Wash gone."

Jayne chuckles darkly, and nods in agreement "Though it will be a shame to not see how she takes care'a the ha dun" before looking over to Rico, who is laying on the floor, a portable cortex uplink held above her head "Watcha lookin at, Rico?"

"Pictures." She replies idly, a pout on her face.

Jaynes face lights up, but Hillshire cuts him off "I doubt she is looking at the same sort of things _you_ use that screen for Cobb." just a bit of acid in his voice.

"What sort'a pictures then?" the big merc asks, clearly confused.

Before anyone can answer his question, Kaylee enters the common area, a bit of grease on her, cloths just a bit dirty, but smiling nonetheless "Whats everyone doin?" she asks, plopping down in Simons lap, despite the abundance of open chairs. Simon looks a bit flustered, but settles down quickly enough.

"Waiting. All the chores are done, and the captain is still working out our next jobs specifics." Triela answers boredly "Anyone wanna play cards?"

"An get cleaned out by a bunch'a girls half my age again? Rico already got the cost'a her reloader back an then some from me." Jayne gripes.

Rico tosses the durable screen aside, lamenting "Its just not the same." to herself, before she reassures Jayne "Dont worry, I'll buy you something nice on Athens."

As Jayne grumbles about the unfairness of life, a giggling Kaylee interjects "From the sound of it captains nearly done settin up the next job, or, next leg of this job I s'pose."

Smirking, Hillshire replies "Mincing words like that will drive us all insane in the long run." As he leans over to pick up the discarded screen "Renaisance artists, Rico? I suppose a lot of the effect of some of those masterworks would be diminished by the size of the screen. I wonder if any of them survived the evacuation of earth-that-was."

Simon reaches across Kaylees lap to take the screen, and, after a few minutes of him flipping through the artwork in silence, replies "Some did... I saw a few visiting museums on Londinium with my parents when I wasn't mush older than Rico."

Rico smiles, clearly glad that the art had survived, though Kaylee just rolls her eyes, and smiling herself asks "Anyone know where 'Etta an Riv are?"

"On the bridge makin sure we stay on course an talkin at each other." Mal answers, walking into the room looking more or less pleased with himself "I'm more worried 'bout where Petra an Sandro went to hide. You people give me all sorts'a hell about that business with Saffron, but let his little affair with a kid go on unfettered." his voice turning a bit sour towards the end as he drops into an open chair.

Hillshire shrugs "Its clear enough that they both want their relationship to be exactly what it is. And since they show discretion, I keep my thoughts on it to myself."

Triela nods in agreement "It was pretty clear that Petra was the instigator in it all. I had to listen to her complaining about how she could never actually get anywhere with him for the longest time."

"How long did'e hold out for then?" Jayne asks, curiosity piqued

Hillshire shrugs again "Like I said, they show discretion, and are fairly private about the whole thing, as far as those things go."

"It wasn't until around the time Angie died that Sandro caved in to Petras wanting an actual relationship, from what I heard from the other girls. And they were at least somewhat physical about a year before New Turin."

"How do you know? Does Petra really talk about it _that_ much?" Hillshire asks, looking slightly aghast.

Triela shrugs "That was when the... erm, stakeout incident, happened."

Hillshire shakes h is head "No, that happened closer to New Turin, Triela." more than a little worry in his voice, along with the clear discomfort.

Triela shakes her head "No, I was still pretty sheltered, and shocked then. Plus, you were buying me more suits than skirts and blouses then."

Jayne lifts an eyebrow "Stakeout incident?"

Triela shrugs, much less put off by the incident after the exposure to the second generation cyborgs, and chats with Mimi she has had between then and now "It was a long night stakeout. Petra and Sandro were in a car across from us, and she decided to go-

Mal throws his hands in the air, and asks no one in particular "Anyone up for some cards?" clearly desperate to derail the conversation, his curiosity more than slaked.

****Broken****

River sits in the pilots seat. Hands behind her head, feet crossed and on the console in a very Wash-like pose, silently gazing at the stars. Next to her Henrietta is huddled in the co-pliots chair, knees hugged to her chest, head turned down at the console before her. They had been like this for nearly an hour, sitting in an almost comfortable silence, after Rivers most recent attempt to pull Henrietta out of her depressed slump failed. "Why do you try?" the cyborg asks, quietly.

Sighing, and rolling her eyes just a bit River replies "Because your pieces fit back together."

Uncurling herself just enough to look over to the reader, Henrietta asks "My... pieces?"

River nods, not leaving her reclined pose "When Jose died it broke you, shattered you to a thousand tiny little pieces, they-"

"He didn't die... I killed him." Henrietta correct River, self-loathing and sadness heavy in her voice even as it weighs down the younger girls shoulders.

River pulls her feet back to the floor, sits up, and turns to look directly at Henrietta "No, _they_ killed him. The men that first broke you, the ones that put you back together stronger, but still not really better... the men you had no choice but to fight and kill. They are the ones that killed him, they took your self control, hijacked your will from you, and pulled the trigger on your ge-ge."

Henrietta uncurls, and slumps back into her seat "This is where you tell me to get my revenge on dead men, right?" she asks in a dead voice.

River again shakes her head "You already did. You lived when you were supposed to die. Like me, I lived when the ones who made me said that I should die."

Henrietta almost sits up, her face almost betraying her morbid curiosity as she asks "Made... you?"

River nods "Took me from home, and made me Read, made me See... tried to make me better. And it broke the girl, broke her into a thousand tiny little pieces of a madmans puzzle, but some of the pieces were wrong after they finished."

Grasping exactly what River means without her having to say it aloud, Henrietta allows River a respite, asking "Read? See?"

River nods, almost smirking "Can hear what you think, what they all think, whether I want to or not. And sometimes, I see what will happen. Though, the more pieces I put back together, or Simon makes fit again, the less I See."

Nodding in terrified understanding, Henrietta asks "So, does that mean that..."

River simply shakes her head "Cant go down the up escalator. My pieces will never all fit back together. Yours will, and always have." Henrietta nods again, sobered, but strangely encouraged. Jose was gone, but he wouldn't want her to be sad. Dwelling on him, on his death, letting herself lay broken only made her more sad. She had to move on, and it didn't matter where to, so long as she moved. River simply smiled, and stretched back out against the

****Broken****

It was quiet _Serenity's_ cargo bay, save the occasional click of one trigger or another being pulled. Right now Rico was laying on the bench from the work out equipment that normally sat under the catwalk, her dragunov pointed out the airlock window. An hour in, and she was still diligently working at sighting in Bella. "She's still high an right." Jayne announces, looking up from the screen in his hands. It is an invaluable tool, as far as the merc is concerned, as it allows him to sight his weapons in while the ship is in-between planets. "Sure ya don't wanna take a break Rico? We've been at this for a few hours already."

A chuckle emits from the catwalk, causing both the merc and the girl to look up to see an amused looking Petra "This is nothing. Jean had her train more than any of the other cyborgs."

Shaking his head, Jayne just replies "You need ta work on one'a yer guns too Petra?"

Petra shakes her head, and leaps from the catwalk down to the floor "I was just curious what the two of you were doing."

"Sighting in our guns." Rico replies plainly, as her weapon again clicks as she pulls its trigger.

"How?" Petra asks, clearly confused.

"Laser sightin' machine. Put an emitter down the barrel, an every time ya pull the trigger it sends a signal to the target. Shows yer results on the screen it came with." Jayne explains, before turning to Rico "Looks like Bellas sighted in proper now Rico. Dont think any of yer other girls need the long range target."

Rico simply shakes her head in response, as Petra asks "How did you afford a gadget like that? It cant have been cheap."

The blond cyborg giggles a bit before replying "He stole it from the Alliance. They have do extras, after all, and Jayne needed one."

Jayne nods "Works like a charm too. Though I gotta ask ya why your down here with us an not off doin somethin with Sandro."

Petra glances about, looking quesy, she replies "I... I dis- disagree with-" she breaks for a trash bin and empties her stomach into it, though, after a single half-hearted emission, she is simply dry heaving.

"Must be bad then, if'n just thinkin on what Sandro wants makes ya that gorram sick." Jayne opines, setting the screen down as he begins to walk to the airlock to retract the other portion of the electronic weapons sighting rig.

Petra shakes her head "Conditioning added to second generation cyborgs. I get sick if I go against him."

Jayne grimaces "Makes sayin no a bit difficult then, I s'pose"

Petra shakes her head, looking rather green yet "This isnt about that, its about what we will do once this job is over."

Rico tilts her head "What do you want to do once this job is over then, Petra?"

The red haired cyborg sighs "I don't know, and I think its far too early to be deciding. Sandro is already trying to lay plans, even though he has only seen one particularly poor moon. What about you?"

Rico shrugs, standing up and slinging her preferred primary weapon over her shoulder "I don't know yet either.

Still staring at Petra, Jayne asks "So, d'you, use that gag reflex to keep Sandro off ya when your not in the mood?"

The red-haired cyborg rolls her eyes "Its not an issue, and if it were, I'm smart enough to not need to resort to that. Come on Rico, lets go harass Triela, I hear she got herself a date in Whitefall city."

****Broken****

A banshees wail pierces through the sleeping _Serenity_, jerking the entire crew to wakefulness. Being directly across from the source of the scream that could wake the dead, Triela falls out of her bed, and looks over to a now somewhat awake Henrietta, who is still babbling in a loud, screeching panicky voice, and beginning to shudder. The older cyborg swears, and makes her way over to her younger sister "Henrietta? Are you okay?" she prompts, worry thick on her voice "Whats wrong?"

Teeth now chattering as if she is deathly cold, Henrietta haltingly screeches out "NO! C-Cant remember. Don t, don't want to remember."

Triela wraps the blankets tighter around the violently shivering Henrietta, despite the sweat now appearing on her face, and the fact that the younger cyborg is hot to the touch "It was just a dream 'Etta, don't worry about forgetting it. Are you still feeling cold?" she asks, hoping to God that the doctor was woken up by Henrietta's initial screech.

Henrietta shakes her head haltingly and violently "No, not a dream." she insists, further confusing Triela as the older cyborg begins to gently rub the youngers back. "Feel sick... cold." Henrietta adds, in a pinched voice.

Triela pulls a waste bin closer to the side of the bed with her free hand, and soothingly replies "Don't worry, I'm sure the doctor will be here soon to get you sorted out."

Clearly frightened, Henrietta asks "And if he isnt?"

Treila forces a smile "Then I'll take you to the infirmary and drag the doctor to you so that you get taken care of." she replies as warmly as she can.

Mal stumbles out into the ships main hallway, ears sore, and groggy at about the same time as everyone else. "What the ruttin hell was that?"

"Dunno, came from the SWA folks rooms though." Jayne groggily responds.

The pair reaches the end of the corridor just behind Simon, though apparently long behind River. The reader looks torn between going further down the hallway, and running to hide. Her head poking out from the bulkhead, is pointed directly at the door to Triela and Henrietta's room. "Dreams are memories, but the memories are suppressed by the medicine. When the medicine isn't working they remember the dreams... they were forgotten for a reason."

Simon Tam does not swear. Simon Tam does not run. Simon Tam is generally calm and collected. The fact that Simon Tam turned around, cursing and running looking more than a little panicked is enough to worry Mal. "Take it we were all wonderin what the ruttin' hell is goin on a bit loudly then?"

River nods, as Jayne asks crossly "And just what the ruttin hell did happen then? I dont speak moon-brain."

River sighs, and rolls her eyes, before replying "Ge-ge's changes to her medicine work, but now how he wanted it too. Henrietta is in danger, and remembering things that the Agency made her forget for a reason."

It is clear that Jaynes brain is still processing what he just was told when Simon returns at a slightly more controlled jog, an empty syringe in one hand, one filled with a clear fluid in the other. Out of curiosity more than anything, Mal follows the doctor to the cyborgs room, while River stays frozen in place, and Jayne begins lumbering back to his room, grumbling.

Inside the room, things look more than a little grin. Henrietta is bundled up in every blanket that was in the room, and violently shivering, though clearly drenched in sweat. An immensely worried looking Triela is slowly rubbing the younger cyborgs back, and shivering through her own pajamas, though her own uncomfortableness is clearly far from her mind, judging by the awful stench emitting from the waste bin that is overflowing with vomit next to the bed. Simon shakes his head, and swiftly moves in, banding off Henrietta's arm and taking a sample of her blood. Moments later he moves in with the filled syringe, and injects Henrietta. The shivers slowly begin to level off, though the flop sweat does not stop, nor does Henrietta rouse from her delirious state. "That should get her stabilized, but I think we should move her to the infirmary at least for the night."

Triela slowly moves in to lift her younger comrade, though she is staring at Simon. "What exactly happened?" she asks, worry and a hint of anger thick on her voice.

Simon shakes his head "I cant be certain until the blood-work is done," he begins as he moves to follow Triela as she moves past Mal, Rico, and Petra "but I suspect that I finally identified the most belligerent of the addictive substances in the pharmaceutical cocktail you and the other cyborgs are on. Most likely, I stepped back on it too much in the iteration of the drug Henrietta is on."

As the pair passes through the common room, and an equally worried and curious Hillshire, Sandro and Kaylee, Triela asks "So, does that mean I'm going to..."

Simon shakes his head "No Triela, I have you and the others a few iterations behind Henrietta. I doubt that I will update your supplies of the drug until I have how the substances I'm trying to purge from the drug are connected to the memory suppressants that keep your less savory memories from resurfacing like that are connected." As Triela gently sets a quietly moaning Henrietta down on one of the infirmaries beds, Simon turns around to see the entire crew, save for the now sleeping Jayne. Simon sighs, and adds "I'm just going to be going over blood-work and watching Henrietta for the rest of the night. You all may as well go to bed, I'll probably have something by morning."

The crew begins to disperse to their bunks, save Triela. When the other healthy cyborgs notice that she is staying, they turn around to join her, just inside the infirmary. "Why is Henrietta getting the newest versions of your modifications to the conditioning drugs? Shouldn't we all be on the same treatment?"

Simon shakes his head as he inserts the phials of blood into the machines he chose to test with "No, you should not. I'm not a pharmacologist, and despite the experience in that field I acquired helping River, I do not fully trust anything I do in my forays into that field."

"So, your using Henrietta as a guinea-pig then?" Petra asks, a bit of ice in her voice.

Simon starts the machine, and turns to face the cyborgs "Yes, I am. Regrettable as it is, she is the least likely to survive, so it makes the most sense to test out new conditioning cocktails on her, as she needs the treatment most, and her lifespan will suffer the least from setbacks like this."

Triela nods "So, if 'Etta dies, I become the guinea-pig?" her voice even, but clearly not approving.

"Unless Rico leaps ahead of you in terms of how far along your lifespan as a cyborg is, yes." Simon replies, sounding every bit the doctor he is.

"Its triage." Rico notes, a little sadly.

Simon nods "Sadly, yes. Though with the addictive portions of your drugs identified and mostly isolated, I think all of your chances of survival just went up by quite a bit for now." he informs the cyborgs, as River walks back into the room, a blanket wrapped around her shoulders.

"For now?" Petra asks the doctor, ignoring River as she plops down on the empty bed.

"Past removing the unnecessary substances from your drugs, I cant do much more without specialized equipment that I don't have access to on the ship. You would be stuck as you are for the rest of your lives, which still wont be as long as most. And if you were injured..." Simon trails off, sitting on his stool, and sliding a small computer-pad across his table.

"You wont be able to fix us." Rico finishes, as the doctor begins to tap away at its keys.

The doctor nods "Like I already said, theirs nothing else to do here, so you girls may as well go to bed. We do have a job in a few days." the cyborgs begin to file out, but again, Triela stops.

"Do you mind if I stay in here tonight, doctor?" the tan cyborg asks, quietly.

"I am." River replies from the spare bed, scooting over so that it can better accommodate both of them sitting on it. Smiling tiredly, Triela sits down on the medical bed next to River.

****Broken****

The _Serenity_ sat at port on Athens, door snugly shut, as the crews older girls sat about, waiting. Jayne, Sandro and Rico, who had already left almost as soon as the ship touched down to stake out the job site were do back fairly soon though, and Mal not long after. "Why cant I just dress like I normally would when I need to pass off as being older than I am again?" Triela asks Inara as the Companion fusses over the cyborg

Inara purses her lips, and, without looking up from the intricate series of braids she is weaving Trielas hair into, responds "Because the cloths that man put you in were absolutely dreadful for a girl with a figure like yours."

"See, it isnt just me!" Petra exclaims from her perch on a crate nearby, impatiently awaiting her turn under Inaras care next to Kaylee "Maybe if you had a better wardrobe that Atton wouldnt have run off just because you pulled out your gun."

Kaylee shrugs "Quicker that way. Vic woulda scared'im off otherwise, iffin you really didn't want ta see the poor kid again. Still dont see why ya wanted'im gone though, seems like a nice enough kid from the way you tell it."

"I am not _arm candy_. Thats why I wanted the jerk gone." Triela replies with more than a little edge in her voice.

Inara laughs "That may be true, but that doesn't mean you have to dress like a man either, Triela."

Petrushka nods sagely "In fact, looking good can make some missions, 'specialy ones like this, easier."

"I'm going out to make sure our buyer doesnt try anything funny. Not socialize." Triela shoots back, crossing her arms. "Looking 'good' as you three define it, has nothing to do with our job, so I don't see why your not letting me wear what I like to."

Kaylee giggles "Lookin' good don't mean fragile cloths and frills'n such. Zoe looks plenty good, an all she ever does on jobs is kick ass."

"Or say 'yes sir' to the captain, but that's her job, I suppose." Inara adds, as she finishes cinching Trielas into an effectve weave of tight braids, enough to keep her long locks in check and out of the way should things come to violence.

"So, you expect me to go out, in public, in these tight pants and this thin white blouse that barely reaches my belt... and you want to _hide_ my trenchcoat?" Triela clarifies, looking down at the aforementioned red colored jeans and shirt she is currently garbed in "Theres no way Hillshire will let me be seen in public like this."

Petra heaves a sigh "He also never let you get your own swimsuit, we had to _sneak_ you out to buy you one other than the fetish-fuel thing they had all of us in for our classes at the SWA. And he did let you start wearing more feminine cloths recently."

Kaylee nods "Some'a them skirts you have are nice Triela... though its a shame you hide behind that trenchcoat."

"I'm not _hiding, _behind anything! Its functional, and I like it very much, thank you." Triela tersely replies, standing up from in front of Inara so that one of the other girls can have a turn under her ministrations.

"You just like it because Hillshire gave it to you." Petra replies, moving to sit at Inaras feet, back to the companion.

"And what about that zippo Sandro gave you when you were finally able to smoke without hacking a lung out? Or all those lacey bits he bought you that I always saw you cleaning Petra? Those _cant_ be comfortable."

The red-haired cyborg freezes, and her face shifts to match her hair for a moment, before Inara saves her "Actually, some of the more risque sorts of underwear can be more comfortable, in my opinion. And theirs nothing wrong with cherishing a gift."

Kaylee smiles "'Spose you are a bit of an expert on that Inara. Think we'll have to force Triela to broaden her horizons on that one too?"

Triela freezes in terror, as Petra chuckles out "There's nothing wrong with granny-panties though." jokingly.

"I do _NOT_ wear granny-panties!" Triela defends herself.

Grinning impishly, Petra replies "I'm sorry, the teddy-bear print panties you have are cute enough, I suppose."

Triela begins to flush from the same embarrassed betrayal only possible by one with whom you share a laundry room with that Petra had felt mere moments before, when salvation comes from an unexpected corridor. "Ruttin cold out there." Jayne grouses aloud, walking into the cargo bay as soon as the ramp drops, Rico and Sandro just behind him.

"I think I need to find a thicker jacket." Rico adds, the tips of her ears and cheeks rosy from the cold, as she shivers ever so slightly in her tan jacket.

"And something to move your dragunov in. " Sandro adds, as he pulls his jacket open.

"See! I do have a reason for wearing my trenchcoat!" Triela victoriously exclaims.

"What are you goin on 'bout now blondie?" Jayne asks Triela, though when she doesnt respond, instead turning to grin triumphantly at her clearly defeated companions. It WAS winter on this part of Athens, after all. Giving up on receiving a response, Jayne turns to Rico and Sandro "Athens is cultured 'nuff that she could hide Bela like you folk did back on earth-that-was."

Rico glances about nervously "Actually, I never had to sneak Bela anywhere, Section 1 always cleared the way for me for those missions."

"What about that fancy shootin' out over the water ya did with her ya told me about before?"

Rico shrugs "We started in Jeans car when that happened."

Inara finally looks up from Petras hair, and the first thing she notices is Ricos frozen face "Your positively frozen Rico, dont you have a hat, or, or..." she trails off, as she realizes that Rico would be wearing said articles of clothing if she had them.

Jayne shrugs out of his coat "Dont worry Rico, I know how ya feel. Got a right cunnin hat, but cant wear it on accounts'a everyone laughin at me 'bout it behind my back."

Kaylee giggles "Can't imagine why. I imagine its real warm when the weathers like this" waving a hand at the door as it slowly shuts again."

Jayne scratches at his head, before ordering "Come on, Rico"

The little blond cyborg shrugs, before trotting off behind Jayne. Once they are gone from the room, Inara quips "I'm shocked that he got it that quickly."

Shaking her head, Triela adds "I just hope it doesnt have some chauvinistic gou shi on it... what does that word mean even?" she asks, after realizing that she had slipped into a more normal speech pattern for a moment.

"Means crap Tri. Shocked to be goin local so fast?" Kaylee responds cheerily, as Petra stands up, her short hair not giving Inara much room to work with, nor taking very long for the Companion to spruce up.

"About time you did Triela. We'll never be able to get on with our lives here if we cling to the past, right?" Petra asks, clasping a hand on the blond cyborgs shoulder.

Triela spaces out a bit, clearly in thought, as Inara adds "And the hat was hand-knit by Jaynes mother, its not a bad hat. Jayne just looks ridiculous in it."

Triela nods, though it isn't really clear to whom, or why, before announcing "I'm going to check on Henrietta, then make sure Rico is fine and that Hillshire isnt trying to get one of his suits ready for this job."

As Triela leaves, Kaylee asks "Did we say somethin wrong?"

Petra just shakes her head "No, Triela just worries a lot. Especially about the other first gen cyborgs. Even after the second generation cyborgs started cropping up, she still acts a lot like a big sister to the other cyborgs."

"Even the ones that were older than her?" Kaylee asks, confused.

Petra chuckles "Not really, she didn't see us as much... but we still knew that if our handlers couldn't help, and we needed an adult to get something done, or go do something, she was the one to go to."

"Really? How did she manage to get into a position like that?" Inara asks, curious.

The crimson-haired cyborg drops back onto the crate she had been resting on before, and replies "She had already been bartering favors with the support staff and Section 1 agents for so long that most of the adults called her the 'Princess of Section 2' by the time the second generation went into production, she was simply the go-to girl for things like that."

Mal is walking down the bridge hallway, making his way from the dining area to h is bunk to catch an early night. Much to his surprise, a rather energetic Rico nearly bowls him over as she springs from Jaynes bunk, the mercs orange and yellow hat atop the little cyborgs head. The thing is a little loose on her head, but fits well enough, all things considered. _Theres got to be some law'a the universe against somethin that deadly bein that gorram cute_ he grouses to himself, as he asks "Everything alright ying chi?"

Rico, still grinning, shakes her head and replies "No, nothing wrong Captain." before continuing along her path, most likely back to her room.

The captain pauses at his door, as he hears Trielas voice "Are you sure, Rico? There's nothing wrong if you still don't feel up to this job, we would all understand."

After a brief pause, Ricos response comes "No, I'm fine. I thought a lot about what Jean would want me to do after we beat the padania, or at least after we killed Dante, and he wouldn't want me to stay sad if he died, or stay a weapon the rest of my life either."

Mal rests a hand on the door to his bunk, and mutters "Kids got a surprisingly solid head on'er shoulders."

"Well, you know the drill before missions, I probably wont be far behind you, so dont worry about me waking you up. Nice hat, by the way." Triela replies, as the shuffling of feet resumes.

"Jayne gave it to me, he even said I can keep it." Rico replies, her voice chipper. Not wholly sure what to make of that revelation, or if he likes its implications, Mal finally slides the door to his bunk open to head down to sleep.

Before he can drop down into his bunk, however, Trielas voice catches him "Have you seen Hillshire Captain?"

Mal shrugs "Think he's still eatin'. Why?"

The tanned cyborg shakes her head, eyes closed, and plants her hands on her hips "I need to make sure that stick in the mud isn't planning on trying to wear one of his old suits for tomorrows job. If I cant wear what I'm comfortable with because it wont fit in, he certainly isn't going to get away with wearing what _he_ is comfortable in." Mal just shakes his head and drops down into his bunk, as the sound of Trielas boots begin to move back down the corridor.

* * *

><p>Sorry about this chapter being a bit shorter, but it would have been massive, and taken longer than I would have liked to get into the next job in this chapter. The next one will have plenty of action, I promise, and should come quicker, as there should be less for me to agonize and nitpick over. I seriously gutted and re-did three of the scenes in this chapter 3 or 4 times each, haha.<p>

Hope you enjoyed, and please drop me a review! It feels great to know that people are enjoying my story, and criticism is always welcome, as it helps me make this better.


	6. Chapter 6

as usual, first comes a big tahnks to my reviewers, jarta, Kairan1979, deckman, bomber68, VizeerLord, Omorocco and zarien, its awesome to hear that people like my writing.

Second, sorry about the massive delay, i had some not insignificant computer issues with the new one I built, so writing had to take a backseat to getting what I write on to work, haha. Hopefully I'll be back to a monthly update schedule at the very least now that my computers acting like it should again (knocks on wood).

Third, I own nothing, not Firefly, not GSG, and none of the cyborgs other than cannon characters you recognize.

* * *

><p>"Rico, you got the lead car, right?" Jayne asks over the radio. His only reply is a quick double-click over the line, an affirmative response. He figures he shouldn't be surprised that she radio discipline, all things considered, but it still surprises him a bit. Shaking his head he asks "You gonna try ta take'em before they land, or wait? Cuz Veera could do either."<p>

For a while the line is silent, Jayne waiting for an answer from a cyborg apparently lost in thought. Not exactly a patient man, Jaynes gaze drifts from the second of the three hovercars headed for the penthouse landing pad protruding from the side of the Stettman Building, just below the top three stories of the forty story office building. Of course, those top three stories made up the penthouse that their contact, Jonathan Stettman lived in, and the entire crew, save Henrietta, River, Simon, Kaylee and Inarra, was as well. "Let them land." Hillshires voice cuts in "Triela is on her way to greet them, and with support from you it should turn that landing pad into a killing field."

Jayne grins, looking forward to seeing Triela in action after all the stories he had heard about her from the other SWA folk. Plus, any fight where he was guaranteed to not get shot was a good one, and considering that his perch was a good 500 yards off, and a few stories above the landing pad, this certainly counted as one of those fights. "Sounds good to me then. Rico?" he pauses for a moment, before shouting "HEY, RICO! We got less than five until its shootin time, you copy or not?" completely unaware that the cyborg he was trying to reach was currently having a bit of a flashback.

****Broken****

Rico emerged from her room, already prepared for the days job, and far ahead of Petra, who is still in the bunk fussing with her makeup. Across the hallway, Triela was emerging from her bunk as well, clad in the same cloths she had been complaining about yesterday plus her trench-coat, and groggily pushing stray tufts of hair back into the complex weave of braids that kept the older cyborgs hair from falling past her shoulders. "Morning Rico." she greets her, nodding towards the dining room in a wordless question.

The younger cyborg smiles, and moves to follow Triela after the older cyborg looks her over. Clad in a set of tan cargo pants, pockets already loaded with her spare clips for her weapons, and a light blue long-sleeve shirt, gold and red mandarin characters taking up the entire right third of the shirt, including the sleeve. Rico had already heard Sandro joke that it looked like someone took one of Jaynes t-shirts, shrunk it and changed the cut to be a bit more feminine, but that didn't bug Rico. Grumbling about the unfairness of being the only one forced to change her wardrobe, and not being able to shower daily on the ship the older cyborg leads the way, her Heckler and Koch G3 hanging on her back, and P7 resting on her belt. Rico adjusts the hat on her head, and shifts the weight of the false easel cover that would allow her to get to her spot overlooking the job site without being stopped for carrying a rifle. It had been Sandros idea, and Kaylee had been able to rig it up easily enough. A pair of steel bars and some clips to allow her to detach them from the butt of her rifle, and a black sheet of cloth taken from Inaras shuttle to cover it made it look exactly like an easel, and the short length of chain allowed her to safely carry the weapon, though dangling it by the butt was probably not the best idea.

Upon entering the dining area, Triela gets something to lash out at. The rooms sole occupant, a very tired looking Kaylee, her coveralls covered in grease, hair matted, and generally looking like hell. "Hypocrite." the older cyborg accuses, planting her hands on her hips as Rico moves past her to set Bela down and get some breakfast.

Kaylee shrugs "Don't see what yer talkin 'bout Tri. These're my work cloths an your in yours."

Rico plops down next to Kaylee, her plate already filled with rehydrated omelet and toast substitute, a glass of milk in front of her to go with it, as Triela replies "But, those arent femenine at all!" her voice a half-shout.

"Dont have ta be. Sides, I got plenty'a nice things fer when I'm out with Simon or the crew. You didn't." the tired mechanic replies in a cheery, matter-of-fact voice, despite her clear exhaustion, and half-empty pot of coffee next to her.

Trielas scowl deepens as she shoots back "You said yourself that some of the things I had were nice."

"An they wont always fit in where we land, Triela. Now lay off Kaylee, idea was more Sandros than hers anyhow. She just had 'Nara buy the cloths for ya before we landed." Mal cuts in, having arrived from the other direction, and already filled his own plate with his own approximation of an omelet. "Now get some food in ya before we have ta leave for the job. Its probably gonna be a long day."

Huffing one last time, Triela does as ordered, doing her best to not make a face at the less than appetizing food on her plate. For a while the four eat in silence, until Rico asks "Why do you look so tired, Kaylee?"

"Workin on _Serenity_ almost nonstop since we landed. Probably gonna have ta go back to'er once I'm done eatin. Some maintenance just cant be done while we're runnin the engine." the mechanic replies between gulps of coffee.

"An your doin a bang-up job Kaylee." the captain praises her, before turning to Rico "though she's probably gonna sleep for a day or two straight once we get in the black again. Ain't often we're dirt-side long enough for her to do these sort of repairs, so she always makes the most of it."

Kaylee scowls "Which is just plain _bad_ for our girl. Almost as bad as runnin some'a the parts that we've been needin to replace for the last few months as hard as we are." her disapproving gaze affixed solely on the captain.

"Yea I know Kaylee, our next stop after Athens is Persephone, we'll get the replacements there." Mal replies tiredly.

Triela pales a bit "How bad?"

Kaylee shrugs "Well, if the hydraulic stabilizer or the primary compression converter give out, we'll be dead in the water, an probably worse off than when the grav boot went."

The older cyborg blinks slowly for a while, before asking "What?"

"Means that if those parts go wrong we're all sorts'a humped. I just try to keep'er from beatin me with a wrench until I can replace what needs replacin'. Otherwise I just leave it to Kaylee." Mal answers as Rico finishes her breakfast, and stands to leave.

"Headin out already Rico?" Mal asks.

"I was just wondering where the others all were." Rico responds, again picking up her dragunov, and flipping it upside down so that the black cloth covers it, and the steel pipes again resembled the legs of an easel as opposed to their true form.

The captain nods "Etta an the Bit were up on the bridge goin through flight controls an such, Vic and the Doc are still in their bunks I think, an the rest are all outside smokin far as I know." he pauses for a moment, before asking "You sure your ready for this Rico?"

Rico pauses at the door hatch between the dining area and the corridor that would eventually take her to the cargo bay, and the ships exterior. Were she facing the dining rooms inhabitants, they would see grief pass her face for a moment, then denial and reluctance, before her typical little smile shot back across her face. Yes, she still loved Jean, he was her everything. Her purpose. She had been happy then, despite his rough treatment, and all the hardships, little tragedies that she never really let get to her. But that was in the past now, just like the hospital bed and her parents arguing and screaming, false smiles and predictable platitudes. This was her life now, and all that had changed was where she lived it, and some of the people she lived it with. The 'verse was a wonderful place, full of new and wonderful things, just like the world she had known. So she would enjoy them, and be happy, because that is what she believed Jean would want for her. That is what she had to believe, otherwise she would still be a wreck, adrift in a sea of emotions she didn't know how to deal with. So she simply nods her head, and replies "Mm", the only response that would not betray her emotions, before continuing on her way.

****Broken****

Petra looked out at the city of Pallas, the planets capitol city, and, by extension, capitol of the planets that orbited Georgia. She liked it a lot better than Whitefall City, then again, that dump wasn't exactly hard to beat, she mused as she took another drag off of her cigarette. Skyscrapers and neon lights, lanes for the handful of groundcars, and hanging markers for the hovercar lanes. She wasn't sure what Allison would think about cars without wheels... probably mostly disdain at the very idea of them. At the same time though, she trusted that her former roommate would find _some_ way to make them go faster or handle better. As Jayne blows another thick cloud of smoke, pulling his cigar from his mouth and tapping the ashes off the end, the cyborg marvels at the view of the "right" side of Pallas. It is clearly visible from the cheap, no questions asked docking facility _Serentiy _is docked at, gleaming polished stone, illuminated by mirrors and sunlight at the top, coated in dirt and grime on the ground, where most walked and worked.

She sighed, and pulled her jacket around herself a bit more tightly as the last of her cigarette burnt away to ash, and she flicked the butt away from the ships ramp. She couldn't help but think of her friends, wonder how they would react to life here in the future, or, present, more accurately. She know that more than a few would fall in love with the fashion or architecture of the verse as it was, while others would fawn over the new guns and technology like the kids they were. Most of all though, Petra misses her friends, her cybernetic brothers and sisters. Not that she didn't get along with the handful of cyborgs that had woken up, as one of the first second generation cyborgs, she got along better with the first gens better than most of the other second generation cyborgs. Its just that they weren't as close and, despite their situation, she doubted they ever would be all that close. She had simply traveled in different social circles than the others to wake up, and the questions begged by the absence of so many second generation cyborgs from stasis pods seemed more pressing than working to improve her relationship with the other girls who woke up. The sound of feet lightly padding down the ramp brings her a moment of hope, through the introspective haze she is lost in. Then, Rico breaks that little glimmer of false hope as she greets the crews smokers "Good morning." she begins, before sniffing and stating "Something smells different."

Sandro sighs a bit "That would be Jayne and his cigars, Rico." as he tosses his own cigarette butt off the ramp.

Rico shakes her head as she stops between Jayne and Petra "No, I know what cigars smell like, its just that these are..."

"Not crap?" Petra asks, mischief on her voice.

"Hey, I normally get pretty good ones. 'Sides, how'd you know a good cigar from a bad one by smell anyways? You dont smoke'em" Jayne retorts, not looking insulted, but still defensive.

Petra shrugs "Most of what you smoke is pretty close to the cheap cigars I always found bottom-feeder mobsters sucking on. At least that's how it smells to me."

Jayne turns to face Petra, clearly ready to retort with something he thinks brilliant, when Rico cuts him off "It smells good, I think."

"No, your too young Rico." Sandro interjects, as he stretches his back a bit, clearly still working to wake up himself as he heads off any attempts by the young cyborg to try something new.

Rico tilts her head to the side, and replies "But, I'm only a few years younger than Petra, and Triela told me that Mimi told her that-"

"I'm 17, nearly 18 Rico. Your only 13 and a half." Petra deadpans "And do you really want to try smoking?" she adds, amusement sinking into her voice, and killing any chance she had of looking serious as she asks.

"Dont matter, Sandros right. I aint lettin no 13 year old girl start smokin while she's under my care, which, so long as your on my boat an no one better shows up to claim ya, is gonna be quite a while yet." Mal interjects tersely as he steps outside, waving the last few wisps of smoke out of his path.

Jayne shrugs "And there ya go. Dont matter whether or not you wanted to try now anyhow."

Mal stretches, and looking about, asks "Rico, wasn't there another bit that went with your ensemble?"

Petra nods and replies "It was a document tube wasn't it? For your rangefinder and to make sure your cover is plausible."

Rico nods "I just didn't want to carry it around all morning, its very fragile." though her smile falters a bit as she answers Petras question.

Jayne heaves a sigh "Well go an get it girl, we gotta start walkin now if we're gonna be in position and unnoticed by the time the others are at the job. Rico nods again, and scampers off to retrieve the last piece of her disguise.

"Startin' ta forget like the others, aint she?" Mal asks Sandro once the cyborg is out of earshot.

The handler shrugs "It could be that, or it could just be that shes young and forgetful. Its hard to tell early on... but I wouldnt be surprised if it was her Conditioning catching up with her."

Jayne grunts, spits, and adds "Least they got a chance now. Near dead or not, what got done to those girls aint right."

****Broken****

"Your standing right next to Rico still, arent you Jayne?" Mal asks through the radio as they check the lines.

"An what if I am?" Jayne replies, putting his right hand to his ear, adjusting the weight of his rifle on his back as he does so. He was openly carrying his weapon, trusting his age, and, if needed, his merc guild card to get him through the city. Sure, it hadn't been valid for a few years, but it served to get most lawmen off his case when he was carryin a bigger gun on the more civilized worlds. A handgun, even a big one, and they would probably check his credentials hoping for an easy arrest. But a high-powered sniper rifle, plus a .45 sidearm? Not many lawmen on more coreward, or at least core-like worlds had the balls to stop him, let alone risk getting in a merc with a guild sanctioned jobs way.

"I can hear you just fine Jayne." Rico echoes into the earpiece/mic setup hidden on her person from next to him, grinning.

"Rico, dont encourage him. He's bad enough without him getting any support." Mal chides the cyborg as she continues to look out the glass elevators window as the pair ascends from the ground level of Pallas to the upper level skywalks and hovercar landing platforms that the cities upper class moved about on. After a few moments of silence, Mal asks "Rico, are you even listening?"

Rico looks away from the city, and, after humming a bit as she thinks, places her index finger at the corner of her mouth and replies "Yes?"

With a sigh, Triela asks over the crews private radio line "She has _that_ look on her face doesnt she Jayne?"

The merc scratches his head "Dont rightly know what yer talkin about Triela."

A low, femenine growl can be heard rumbling over the radio for a moment before the tan cyborg shoots back "Cobb-"

"Bi-Zu" Mal barks over the radio "We're on a job so I want the chatter kept to a minimum until we're finished. Dong-ma?"

Rico is the first to respond with a swift double-click signaling her affirmative, Jayne following suit a few moments later. "Lets go" Jayne offers as the elevator opens up to the skywalk system. After a few minutes of walking in silence Rico hops up onto the skywalks railing, balancing as she continues to walk. Eventually Jayne breaks the silence "Spose Jean taught ya radio control then." Rico nods in reply "And shootin." Another nod "Plus stealthwork, an ya had schoolin on top of that." Again, the cyborg nods, stretching out her arms to balance herself against a particularly stiff gust of wind "Anything about common sense or fun?"

"Why would you need to teach someone how to have fun?" Rico asks as another blast of wind tries to throw her balance and drop her to the ground some 40 stories below.

"So all work and no play. Well thats crap." Jayne answers.

"I had plenty of fun with the other cyborgs when I had free time." Rico replies, bracing against yet another blast of strong wind.

"Gorramit girl, git down from there!" Jayne barks as Rico yet again nearly falls, this time Bela sliding from her shoulder and dangling over the drop. Shrugging, the cyborg hops back onto the skywalk, swinging her primary weapon back over her shoulder as she does so. "How much free time did ya have then?"

"Jean and I trained more than almost all of the other fratello, so not very much." Rico answers in her usual cheery voice as the pair reaches a fork in the walkway.

Jayne pulls out a cigar and lights it up as the pair comes to a stop, and glances at his watch "Great, we had ta head out three hours early, and at this pace we'll have two on site before the job starts. Ruttin hate sittin around for a whole job."

Rico stifles a giggle "With the captains luck, we'll probably have to shoot someone before we get paid, dont worry."

"Aint you supposed to think shootin folks a bad thing?" Jayne asks between puffs.

The cyborg tilts her head to the side "But its what I was trained to do. And It would be dishonest to get paid for not doing any work."

Cobb shrugs "Dishonest coin spends just as well as honest coin far as I can tell." The merc pauses to glance at his watch again "We should probably keep headin to our positions fer the job. Lets meet back here once things are finished up." Rico nods, her face falling deeper and deeper inrto a mask of thoughtfulness as she turns to head down the left-hand path. A few moments later Jayne shrugs and heads off down the right.

****Broken****

As the door to the shuttle slides open, Henrietta turns her seat around to watch the rest of the crew disembark instead of the engine cool-down sequence she had seen River go through what feels a hundred times already. A trio well built men in identical red trimmed black suits approach the door, all armed with large holstered handguns. The cyborgs training kicks in as soon as the ground crew starts securing the shuttle to the massive conveyor belt that will move it away from the penthouses only landing pad. Armed men, only means of escape being secured and neutralized as such, the cyborgs mind races and her eyes begin darting about for her weapon and handler for a few frantic seconds. Rivers hand resting on her shoulder, followed by the loud clank of magnetic locks properly and temporarily securing the shuttle, followed by the lead suited man, his angular face set in a seemingly permanent sneer, black hair and beard trimmed short and neatly asking "You Reynolds?" breaks reflex and instincts hold on the younger brunettes mind.

Mal nods "Yup." and pauses to straighten out his coat before adding "Big black haired guy and the blonde bit are my security. Shifty looikin blond guy is Sandro, my appraiser and an old friend, redheads his daughter and just taggin along to learn her pa's trade."

The guard to the right of the first to speak, a musclebound bald man rolls his eyes "You mean to tell me that your security is an over the hill cop and a slip that should be at academy right now?" shaking his head and sighing he continues "And to think I got called in on my day off for this gou shi."

The leftmost guard, the least well built of the three shrugs and rolls his head so that he can look directly at the bald man opposite him behind the leading well trimmed guard, his greasy mop of brown hair falling to cover one of his eyes "At least half'a the people we're here ta keep an eye on is easy on the eyes. Blond is a bit flat but-"

"Bi-zu!" the lead guard exclaims as Petra and Triela glare at the brown haired guard threateningly "I'm sorry for my subordinates Captain Reynolds" the leader continues, pinching the bridge of his nose "if it makes you feel any better these oafs are the best I have as far as politeness goes."

Mal shrugs "Most'a mine can be just as bad. Hav'em help Petra and Vic get the goods moved outa the shuttle an we'll forget about it." as he steps off of the shuttle into the brisk air, Triela and Sandro in tow as he follows the lead guard into the building, leaving the rest of the crew and Stettmans guards to loiter outside the shuttle with the ground crew as it is moved into the penthouses garage/hangar.

Fifteen minutes later and the shuttle is empty, and silent. It had been empty for ten minutes, Triela venting her frustration on getting crates of antiques unloaded having greatly expedited the process. Henrietta reaches across the control panel for the shuttles audio, only to have her hand slapped away by River "No more loves songs, heartaches, or otherwise depressing music."

"But..." Henrietta trails off

"I'll choose the music." River deadpans into the freshly reborn silence, glancing sidelong at Henrietta, head tilted off to the side as she reaches over to the same panel Henrietta had been reaching for. The music starts low, and dark almost evil in its steady ponderous droning. Then the drop hit.

"River... what is this?" Henrietta asks as the song progresses into what could best be described as the creation of an evil genius dj.

"German dungeon porn soundtrack dubstep." the reader replies, disinterest heavy in her voice.

Henriettas train of thought completely obliterated, face a mask of confusion and concern "Where did you..."

"Found it." River replies into the now raucous air as the beat devolves to chaos "On one of the computers we recovered from the agency sleeper ship."

"Who-" Henrietta starts, only to be cut off by a note so far below the musical scale not even a map could help it find its way back to said scale drowns out all sound in the shuttle, and continues to grow louder for nearly ten seconds. The note cuts off as abruptly as it had been equalized to the fore and Henrietta, sitting in as stark a contrast to Rivers perfect imitation of the late Hoban Wash's relaxed, easy lounge as possible asks "Who's computer was it?"

The reader smirks, looking away from the viewport and towards her co-pilot "It wouldn't be professional to beat on the buyers security for eyeing her up."

Henriettas jaw nearly drops to the floor, until she remembers what the tanned cyborgs cd collection is mostly comprised of "No, she listens to mostly classic rock... and classical music."

"Still someone you don't know as well as you thought you did." River singsongs. The track runs its course, and it isn't until the next song of the same genre is a minute in that Henrietta opens her mouth, before closing it again and falling back to thinking. River giggles "You can guess as much as you want. Only I know whose the track is now, the computer I copied it from just sold."

****Broken****

Triela marches down the hallway, G3 held loose in her hands, boots clacking rhythmically on the black marble floor. "Lead car should touch down in thirty seconds" Rico announces as Triela hugs the gunmetal gray wall to the side of the landing pads main entrance. A screen slides out of the wall, and turns itself to be easily viewable to the cyborg without forcing her to leave her position at the doorway, and flickers to life, a live feed to the landing pad security camera dominating the small screen. "I have eyes on the pad, no need to call shots until I make my move." Triela anounces over the radio as the hovercars settle onto their landing struts. For a few seconds after, the pad is silent as thugs begin piling out of the cars. As a group the thugs are fairly stereotypical, leather jackets, greased or unwashed hair, an assortment of oversized pistols and shotguns and a myriad of unnecessary chains adorning their cloths. No one color or theme dominates the groups garb, which in addition to the seemingly random smattering of weapons rules out both professional mercenaries and pre-existing street gangs as the source for the now twelve strong group of thugs standing about the cars. Then two of the drivers heads explode into bits of bone and gore. Moments later the third driver is slain, and the thug who had been attempting to get the group of hired killers moving towards their target are dispatched as well.

The eleven remaining thugs fall into chaos and fear. Anothers head is hollowed out, as a man in a gaudy green jackets left lung and heart are punctured by a pair of well placed shots. The next man to fall had a kneecap obliterated by high powered rifle fire, though the two lung shots he sustains before hitting the ground gives Triela an idea of what was happening; Jayne and Rico had just fallen into some sort of sick competition without speaking a word to each other. When the next man to fall does so with a bullet hole replacing each eye socket before his corpse strikes the landing pad. Perhaps if the men had been trained professionals they would have reacted sooner, but it is painfully obvious that the assortment of back alley killers and muggers finally turn their scramble to the quarter circle their hovercars had formed upon landing, and take shelter from the now reloading snipers. Though now nearly perfectly shielded from the force that had halved their number in the space of a minute, they are now totally exposed to Trielas line of fire. The princes of the SWA chooses that moment to kick the door open. There would have been a brief moment of silence as the thugs realized just how well and truly screwed they were, but the tail end of one of their surviving fighters exhorting that they had been "sold out!" ruins that. Before anything else can be said, Triela opens up, felling three thugs with three short, controlled bursts from her assault rifle before ducking back into the corridor she had just burst out of.

A few return rounds slam into the buildings wall, before the return fire is cut off by the loud crack of Ricos rifle being fired. "Three left." Rico announces over the radio.

"Centers got a grenade." Jayne adds, his voice hinting at boredom. Triela double-clicks her radios talk button before stepping back out onto the landing pad. She identifies the would-be bomber, and downs him with a burst to the head before he can prime the weapon. Triela manages to wound the second remaining thug, before a shotgun blast from the third forces her back into cover. The loud bark of Veera being fired heralds Jayne announcing "Just the one left Tri. An I aint got no line on'im."

Triela is about to step out into the line of fire a third time when the crack of Ricos rifle echoes through the city again "Thats the last one" Rico announces as the last echo of her shot fades.

"Check to make sure Mr. Stettmans friends are all as dead as we think they are Triela." Mal pauses, clearly conversing with someone not on the radio line. A few moments later the line goes live again, albeit muffled slightly "Of course I had additional guards outside your building, I'm not a complete idiot. No you cant know where they are." the captain sighs, and his line opens up "Bring in any survivors so that Stettman can figure out who it is thats trying to kill him... this time."

Jayne can be heard chuckling on the line before he adds "Gotta love Athens business... almost as bloody as the war for independence was on some days." while Triela walks out onto the landing pad searching about to find any signs of life. Considering that most of the thugs had been shot in the head, neck, heart or lungs there is none to be found, save the man who finished bleeding out from his gut wound as she approaches him.

"So, theres no better business bureau anymore then?" Rico quips.

"There is." River inserts herself to the conversation "Blue Sun owns it."

"Along with that academy that yer folks sent ya too." Jayne finishes, sarcasm heavy on his voice.

"Cut the radio chatter." Hillshire orders, and is responded to by a hail of clicks on the radio.

****Broken****

Hillshire and Triela walk into the nicest restaurant without a dress-code they could find and afford in Pallas' culinary district after nearly an hour of searching after River had dropped them off on the way back from the job. Hillshire adjusts the dress shirt he was wearing, before smiling and finding them a place to sit while they wait for their table. After a few moments of almost awkward silence between the two Hillshire breaks it "I know that you get paid as well now, but after today's job went so well..."

"Its still a nice way to celebrate a job well done when we can. And I suppose theres some stuff we need to talk about away from the ship." the cyborg replies with a dismissive wave of her hand.

Before Hillshire can reply, the pair is interrupted by a waitress offering to show them to their seats, then offers them a drink menu. Hillshire looks at the menu, and sighs "I suppose I should get used to this."

"What?" Triela asks as she patiently awaits Hillshires verdict on what the best drink the resaurant has to offer is.

"None of these wines sound any good from the description." he laments, before something catches his eye on the menu as the waitress returns.

"What will you be having for drinks tonight then?" she asks, flipping out a pad of paper.

"Two glasses of the triple-barrel bourbon on the rocks with a splash of cola." he responds, and, taking note of Trielas raised eyebrow adds "One a bit stronger than the other." After the waitress leaves, he adds "I would recommend ordering something with a robust flavor. And make sure you sip."

Triela bristles at the jibe, but Hillshire lets her. To his mind, the ignominy of being the first handler to have to haul his drunken cyborg back to the SWA compound made the event fair game whenever he chose to bring it up. "Is there anything else I should know about properly enjoying this?" Treila asks after a few more seconds of silence.

"Its just like wine. Sip lightly, and one drink could easily last the whole meal." Hillshire replies face calm.

The cyborg heaves a sigh "Oh, so its _all_ wines now, is it. You specifically said red wines when you first let me have one with a dinner like this one. And just said 'knock yourself out' when I asked if I could try the raspberry wine a few dinners later."

"Wine is still wine, no matter the style or flavor you drink it the same way. I had thought you were smart enough to be able to discern that, and be able to tell the difference between derision and instruction." Hillshire replies calmly as he awaits his drink.

"And your not warning me about drinking too much of _anything_ the morning after getting drunk from wine?" Triela prompts, trapping her finger on the table as she flips through the menu.

"You made a fool of me when you got drunk from my reward to you for a job well done." Victor defends himself, graciously accepting the stronger of the two drinks as the waitress returns, and waving her off when she offers to take their orders.

Triela takes a sip from hers, and, after coughing loudly, bites back "That was just petty and you know it. Almost as petty as making me 'run it off' for my morning exercise."

Hillshire raises an eyebrow "The cough means your sip was too big for this setting Triela. And the running was because you went through an entire bottle of the stuff at the restaurant... at per drink prices. Not only did you make me look like I was raising an alcoholic, you went through nearly my whole paycheck for that week."

Triela slaps down her menu, mind clearly made up on her choice of meal "Then I suppose I'll have to make sure I don't mess this one up, wont I?"

The handler shrugs "That and to enjoy. This is a truly good bourbon. And the menu looks promising." as the waitress returns and he sets his menu down, ready to order. The pair eats in silence until halfway through the meal, when Hillshire again breaks the now content silence "So, what do you think of _Serenity_?"

"The captains a good man, the work seems steady enough, and Doctor Tam just might be able to... to figure something out for me and the other cyborgs." Triela pauses to take a bite "But trouble seems to follow the ship like a stalker on a super-model, she is an old ship, and after The Wave, and what happened around that they probably have more enemies than friends left."

Victor smirks, wipes his mouth, and takes a sip from his tumbler "So, you think we should stay too then?"

"Cant let River get bored again, and its probably the best job offer we're going to find, all things considered." The cyborg replies, as she takes another bite.

For a few more minutes, the pair eats in comfortable silence, both working out what the best way to approach the captain about permanent employment with him in their heads. Again, it is Hillshire who breaks the silence "So, about this Atton boy..." Triela groans.

****Broken****

It was just past dusk when the cab finally dropped the full, content, and prepared fratello off at _Serenity. _The ship is nearly asleep, exhausted from the days job, and not yet willing to begin making ready to leave the planet for Persephone quite yet. The pair proceeds in silence to their respective rooms, simply nodding by way of good-nights. On a small ship like _Serenity_ they knew they would be seeing each other first thing in the morning anyways. Triela takes advantage of the fact that the ship was still connected to actual plumbing to clean up properly. Stepping out of the shower, and affixing her hair into her usual twin-tails after slipping into her plain red pyjamas, and makes one last decision for the day. The work cloths the other girls suggested were just fine... but her hair was staying the way she was used too it.

The first half of what had been her post-successful mission ritual for almost as long as she can remember now complete, the cyborg crosses her room, and turns on her stereo. Vaguely noting that her roommate had yet to return to the room for the night, she scoops up one of her favorite bears, 'Freddy' and begins singing along with the opening lines of "We are the Champions" to the bear that was altered to fit the bands lead singers likeness as the song plays. As the quiet introductory portion nears its middle, a commotion can be heard from the ships cargo bay, and main entrance. Curious, she sets the bear down to investigate. Upon reaching the cargo bay, Triela is greeted by the sight of a concerned looking Jayne, carrying Rico, who is trembling in fear, surrounded by the rest of the crew. Everything seems to go silent, save Freddy Mercury belting out the most famous lyrics to the song Triela had just started playing to celebrate the successful job and Ricos trembling voice as she announces through terrified sobs "I cant feel my legs."

* * *

><p>dun-Dun-DUUUUUN!<p>

Please dont rip my head off, I'm just a humble asshole, and well, just stay tuned, please, you wont regret it, I promise.


	7. Chapter 7

Thanks for the reviews VizeerLord and Rc1212! Great to know that your enjoying my story!

Sorry for the delay, and the fillerey chapter, but life and tricky conversations to write both happen. The next one should come a lot quicker I hope. Without any furter ado, heres the next chapter!

* * *

><p>Seconds after Rico finished her statement, silence falls over the cargo hold as the last few members of the crew filter in. Just before the heavy silence grows oppressive, the cargo hold doors closing breaks it, causing the whole crew to start asking questions at once. For a few moments chaos reigns, until Mals voice cuts through the din "What took you so gorram long to get back iffin her legs werent workin right?"<p>

Jayne looks down to Rico, who had shifted her position so that she was hanging off of his neck more than letting herself be carried, though the terrified, morose look was still plastered all over her face. "Well, they was workin fine until about three blocks from where we're docked." He answers, looking up to Mal, concern, or at least what counted as concern for the merc evident on his face, despite the muscular mans best efforts. "We stopped through a place I used to work here for grub on our way back."

Simons face pales, as he freezes in place "You dont mean..."

"Cruisers." Jayne answers nonchalantly.

Kaylee snaps her head to glare at Jayne "You mean to say you took a thirteen year old girl into a ruttin-"

"Dont count, aint full nude, an they cut ya off before ya get wasted." Jayne answers

Hillshire does a double-take as realization hits him like a ten ton hammer "How did you even get her in there?"he demands as anger shoots across his face.

Again the merc shrugs as a weak grin starts creeping across the cyborg in his arms face "Aint a bouncer in the joint that I didnt have a hand in teachin. More'n a few'a the girls still got a thing for me too."

Finally Sandro seems to recover mentally "Wait, they serve food in those places... and people actually eat it?"

"Why am I not surprised that you dated a stripper..." Triela mutters from what is now the back of the group.

"I'm still stuck on where you get off on thinkin its a good idea to take a gorram teenybopper into a strip club." Mal asserts, voice as icy as the glare he is leveling at Cobb.

Finaly Rico chuckles out, voice slightly dazed sounding "The girls there all had huuuuge-"

"Dont finish that statement Rico." Hillshire nearly barks at her, an aghast look still dominating his face, as well as every other former SWA member on the ship save Ricos.

Simon pinches the bridge of his nose, suppressing a sigh "As much as I agree that the Trained Ape needs to answer this most recent debacle, I need to get Rico to my infirmary as soon as possible." as he moves to take the cyborg from Jayne. Of course, his professional nature when it comes to anything medical prevents him from noticing the grin on Ricos face, weak as it was, shatter back to her depressed, terrified mask.

****Broken****

By the time Simon sets Rico down on the bed in his infirmary, he is red faced and sweating from the cyborgs weight. Glancing at the girls face as he readies a syringe to draw blood with, he asks "So, your legs just... gave out?"

Rico nods "Yes... just like they do in my nightmares sometimes." half mumbling everything past the first word.

The doctor nods, acknowledging the implications of the cyborgs last statement. But choosing not to comment on them as he inserts the syringe and fills three vials of blood for tests. "I'll need to run a few checks to make sure the limbs are functional before I get going on the blood-work seriously then." Rico just nods as Simon sets the vials of blood down and moves to test the responsiveness of the limbs. After nearly an hour of poking, prodding, machine scanning and photographing, and reflex testing, the doctor steps back from the occupied patient bed, and walks over to the counter to start screening the blood.

Rico, having seen her legs move, and a few of the x-ray and MRI images the doctor took, but having felt none of it asks "So, will you be able to fix my legs?"

Scribbling down notes as a few of his machines set to testing her blood, Simon replies "There is absolutely nothing wrong with your legs to fix, Rico."

Pensivity shifts to shock, then confusion, and finally fear and heartbreak as the cyborgs eyes begin to fill with fluid "But... I, I cant-"

"Its your conditioning Rico. And unless this first battery of tests comes back far worse than I expect it to, we will know whether or not you will ever be walking again a few days before we reach Persephone." Simon cuts her off, keeping his tone professional and level even as his heart reaches out for the little girl in sympathy.

"Will I have to stay here the whole week then?"

"I would prefer if you did." the doctor replies, setting down his notepad, and collecting a few hypos of one of his mutations of the conditioning meds, and feeding them into another testing machine. "Especially since there is still a distinct possibility that you are moving into the same phase of your life as a cyborg that Henrietta is currently, and far more aggressively than she is progressing through that phase." Rico opens her mouth to reply, but the words die on her lips.

For nearly an hour Rico lets the doctor work in silence, staring at her thumbs as she twiddles them. A few times she opens her mouth to ask the question on her mind, but every time the beeping of some machine or another that she cant see cuts her off. She doesnt want to distract Simon from his work, after all. Halfway through the second hour of silence, she cant take it any more however "So, I'm going to die soon then?"

Simon freezes, his professional demeanor cracking a bit. He calmly sets the current batch of test results down, and moves over to sit on his doctors stool in front of Rico. "No, not yet, though if I dont get this right you would be further along than Henrietta is right now, and will still be moving much faster than her. You will have a few months at best, in a bed, if this doesnt work, and I will only have one chance."

The cyborg nods "Is there anything I can do to help you? I... I dont really want to die. Especially... especially like this."

The doctor frowns. He had done more than his fair share of human testing already, on his own sister at that. And if he failed, what he was about to ask would be so much excess tissue anyways, so... "If I could test out my solution before administering it your chances of recovering would be much greater. The only problem is, I need nerve cells, and the substitute for them your cybernetics use. Those either dont grow back very quickly, or I cant replicate them respectively, and they arent easy to pinpoint either."

"So even if you fix me, I might still not be able to move very well." Rico states, her voice still devoid of its usual vivacity and cheer.

The doctor purses his lips, and rests a reassuring hand on Ricos shoulder as another wave of moisture wells up in her eyes as she moves even closer to a screaming, terrified meltdown "With my charts, and a steady hand, no. I may be able to single out sensory endings, and minor or redundant motor nerves." he pauses to think, before adding "If I am accurate with what I take, am successful in treating you, _and_ saving you and the other cyborgs, you would loose just over half the sensation in your feet for half of my most optimistic estimations of how long you girls could live. And there would be scars."

Simon had been expecting at least fifteen minutes of thought, not as many seconds before the girl before him answered "Do it." steel in her eyes.

After a brief, shocked pause, the doctor answers "Let me get my tools ready then."

Rico tilts her head to the side "Isnt it late to be starting this?"

Simon shakes his as he closes the door to the infirmary "No, time is of the essence if your going to have any chance of moving under your own power again; or living to see the new year at that."

****Broken****

The next morning Simons initial testing of what he thinks will be the right chemical cocktail to get Rico back on her feet is interrupted by the clatter of a projector cart being pushed through his infirmaries door. He turns around to see a confused looking Rico being confronted by Triela, Henrietta, River and Petra, all dressed in what could best be described as 'lounge cloths', an array of chairs, blankets, and snacks in tow. Simon looks back to the rickety metal cart, HD projector on it hooked up to a robust looking computer "This is an infirmary, not a lounge room."

Rivers head rotates almost painfully slowly to lock her eyes with her brothers as she takes another step into the infirmary "Trying to start new lives means breaking old habits. Company aids recovery." setting the snacks and blankets she was armed with on the counter as forcefully as a girl her size can set blankets down.

For a few moments the doctor is silent before he attempts to rebut "It may help, but if I dont get this right-"

"You went to college, right?" Triela asks, stepping next to River and letting the chairs fall to the ground.

"Ye-"

"Then you know how to deal with distractions." Petra finishes, handing him a light.

"Besides, your the best doctor in the 'verse. We're sure you'll be able to do it." Henrietta finishes, rolling in the projector and handing Rico a sheet of paper.

"This is the..."

"SWA Banned Media list. Re-ordered to the order we're marathoning it in. Plus a few things we dug out of some of the other cyborgs collections we thought would be good." the other blond cyborg finishes for Rico, before turning back to Simon "Its like your sister said, if we're really gonna start new lives, we need to break some old habits and form new ones, or we'll end up livin in the past for whats left of our lives."

"And we always avoided the hospital when we were at the SWA. Even when Angie was so sick..." Henrietta adds sadly. "And we're not going to make that mistake again." A bit of fire sneaking into her eyes as she plops down in a chair next to Rico.

"Tengen Toppa Gurren Lagann?" Rico asks as Petra begins powering up the computer.

Triela looks up from her calibrating of the projector to fill the wall as best as it can without being hard to see the screen "I think it had the most pretentious reason for being on the list. 'To protect the sanity of the support staff', is what the original read."

Simon pinches the bridge of his nose as Triela plops down to Ricos other side, and his sister next to Henrietta "I suppose theres no dissuading you girls."

"Or stopping us if we decide to force you to comply" Petra cheerily adds, features completely removed from the clear threat.

"I'm going to at least ask that you keep it down somewhat so that I can hear myself think... and clean up your mess when you leave. Especially the crumbs and scraps from eating." The girls all nod in understanding, though none speak any reply. For a few minutes the room falls to silence as the red haired cyborg fiddles with the computer trying to get the series set to run in a playlist.

By the time she gets it set up and the show playing the infirmary turned theater has another visitor as Jayne Cobb walks in just in time for Yoko to make her first entrance on the screen now dominating the wall opposite Ricos bed. Whatever Jayne had intended to ask dies on his lips as he takes in the screen, characters on it and astutely observes "She has..."

"Huge knockers." Rico finishes.

Trielas head snaps to face Jayne "Great, you rubbed off on her. Now get out of here before it gets any worse."

"I aint done nothing wrong, an I aint leavin, so quit yer shoutin' Blondie." Jayne shoots back, only to be silenced by Simon clearing his throat as he uses an eyedropper to apply one of his concoctions to a petri dish. He turns to look at the doctor and asks "Hows-"

"Preliminary testing. Shut up and either take a seat in my screening room or leave." Simon replies distractedly. Shrugging, Jayne plops down onto the currently unoccupied doctors stool in the room, rests his feet next to Ricos, folds his hands behind his head, and settles in to watch with the cyborgs and reader. For the next few hours the infirmary falls nearly silent again, save for the odd analyzer or computer beeping, the anime on the screen. The overall silence is only broken a handful of times, most of them as one person or another cries out "awesome!" or some derivative there of. However, that norm is easily broken by Jayne and Simons shedding of manly tears as Henrietta bawled at Kaminas death. Of course she went starry eyed shortly after as Nia got more screen time, causing almost as much eye-rolling from the other inhabitants of the ward as Jayne constantly pulling for Kittan to 'catch his break' as he put it.

As the series ends, Jayne rises to leave, sulking at the end. The girls start Cashern Sins next, but by episode 4 it is abandoned due to the cyborgs all agreeing that its core content matter is disturbing at best.

****Broken****

By Simons eight pot of coffee, and a quarter as many days of sedentary entertainment for the girls, FLCL reaches its end. "The symbolism is so thick I could cut it with my scalpels handle... I just cant make heads or tails of half of it." Simon sums up into the suddenly silent room.

Henrietta tilts her head to the side in a very River-like fashion "So, does that mean that Priscilla was-"

"No, she was from earth." Triela cuts the chestnut haired girl off in a warm, yet slightly frustrated voice.

"But... I heard Jose say that she was 'out of this world' three different times." The youngest of the group argues.

"Figure of speech that you dont need to get just yet." Petra replies, sharing a knowing, worried glance with Triela.

Rico, glancing back and forth between the two older cyborgs asks "Can all vespas-"

"No, none of them can fly Rico." Triela answers.

"What about Pris-"

"She wasnt an alien. No." River cuts Henrietta off again, causing Rico to pout.

The youngest blond cyborg is the quickest of the two currently inquisitive girls to recover from that letdown, by asking "So, if I hit someone hard enough on the head with a guitar, will they-"

"NO!" every living being in the room, save Henrieta exclaims at Rico, turning almost as one to face her.

Simon shakes his head, smirking slightly "A bit quieter girls, I may be on to something, but if you keep distracting me, I wont get anywhere." he adds to the hanging silence just behind the collective outburst.

"You were just as loud as the rest of us gege." River points out, glancing back to her brother over her shoulder, one eyebrow raised.

Simon heaves a sigh "Dont have time to argue semantics like that River. Just start the next show and keep it as quiet as you can." of course, this comment has the effect of killing almost all conversation in the room, and dampening the increasingly cheery mood dramatically. Within two hours, the room is littered with sleeping girls, Simon having left to nap while some of his machines and computers run tests and compile data for him.

****Broken****

Along with the computers and medical machinery, only Henrietta and River are still keeping vigil. Rico having half fallen out of the bed, snoring lightly, a slight smile on her face having served as a cue to the others. Triella was the next to go, and now lay on the ground where her chair had dumped her when it toppled, a half eaten bag of chips clutched to her side like a stuffed animal looking as peaceful as one could expect of a person asleep on the cold hard floor. Petra had been the third to go, head landing in the mostly empty bucket of popcorn that had been sitting on the stool Jayne abandoned, now peacefully drooling into it, her knuckles grazing the floor as they hang limply from her now suspended torso.

The sounds of someone stirring in the ship, despite the late hour had jolted Henrietta awake, and the combination of her launching from her position leaned up against River, robbing the reader of the mutual support the sleeping girls had been providing each other, and the instinctive mental chaos and panic of a trained killer jolting awake waking her as well. So Mal enters the infirmary just as the Boondock Saints' opening credits begin "Hows the Docs fix comin along?" he asks, smirking at the scene before him.

"Gege is close to something, but doesn't know what yet." River replies.

Glancing up from the screen, Henrietta asks "Arent you supposed to be watching the helm? Captain?" sounding a bit worried and groggy.

"Out in the ghost lanes like this, we only need to make sure we're still goin straight. 'Sides, I set up the comm suite up to relay anything to this." Mal answers, holding up a handheld cortex connection. The bar fight in the beginning of the first movie having grabbed his attention, the captain rolls the unoccupied doctors stool over to a better viewing point along the wall, plops down on it and leans back to watch the movie with the girls. The entirety of the first movie in the series passes in silence, excluding the occasional laughter or reaction. It is Mal that breaks the silence as River switches over to the next movie in the series, poking her arm out of the blanket she and Henrietta are wrapped up in to do so. "Awful calm latetely." the man eventually probes.

"With Rico hurt we've all just been worried about her." Henrietta answers quietly.

"Not what I'm getting at 'Etta." The captain replies, tilting his head just enough to make eye contact with the cyborg without looking fully away from the screen.

River shrugs "Stable as I'll ever be, and all grief must end." as she returns to her seat

Mals head drops for a moment, before he looks to the reader and answers "I was tryin ta be subtle, little Albatross."

"Can we... just watch the movie, please?" Henrietta interrupts just loud enough to be heard over the introductory monologue.

"Probly just some religious gou shi anyways." Mal dismisses it, still looking to the girls for an answer. River retaliates with her 'your such a boob' look. Eventually the captain cracks under the readers sustained gaze though "Fine, I'll ask later."

****Broken****

The movies over, and Henrietta and River sleeping again, Mal groggily trudges out of the infirmary towards the bridge. He nearly makes it, but Inara sitting in the common room, sipping on a cup of tea, fully dressed and clean despite the ridiculously early hour stops him "How is she doing?" once Mal is all the way in the room.

"Dont rightly know. Only the Bit an Etta were up to be honest." Mal replies as he turns to face the companion, her expression souring as he finishes.

"Your a terrible liar Malcom, what is it?" she asks, setting her cup down.

The man shrugs "Just figure you should ask'em yerself is all. It bein their personal business an all."

"Since when has the personal business of passengers ever..." the companion trails off as she realizes what his respect for the former SWA members privacy indicates "You're actually considering hiring them on permanently, arent you?"

"It's their choice, not that Rico or 'Etta have anywhere else to go really. Verse aint exactly a forgiving place fer kids alone." Mal replies nonchalantly.

"Their children, Malcom, children whose lives were ruined doing exactly what you would hire them to do. And since when did we need more gunhands on this boat?" Inara shoots back, rising from her seat to stalk over towards the captain.

"Aint barely a drop of innocence left in those girls Inara. With their ages they'll be tradin that last bit in soon enough anyways. Way I see it best I can do for'em is give the girls fair pay an a chance to act their age between jobs, which'd still be a sight better than they got at that Agency used to own'em." Mal replies, stepping forward so that he has to look almost directly down to see Inaras eyes as she glares up at him.

Inaras eyes shift from mild disbelief to anger as she glares up at Mal "How would you even know that Mal. And what little innocence they have left, which I expect is a good deal more than you give them credit for having, should be protected."

Mal snorts in derision "Like your one to talk 'bout protecting innocence. How old were them girls you taught at the academy when they first started?" Inaras features shift from anger to righteous indignation as she opens her mouth up to retort, but the captain presses on "I know cause I actually talk with'em enough to earn some trust an respect, know their stories."

Eyes smoldering, Inara bites back "That was low, Captain." spitting the words out with perfect enunciation "And it proves just how little you really _do_ know about your crew, as I haven't taken any of the sort of jobs that you just accused me of helping to train _children_ to work for quite some time now. And if you really think that your weak answer of 'I talked with them' is going to get me to drop the whole issue like that explains everything and makes it right your more delusional a petty thief than I thought."

"If you really want to know, Triela went and told me about her past. And no, I wont go tellin you as it aint my story to ruttin tell." Mal replies, ignoring the insult, and completely missing the fact that he had taken a few steps forward, leaving Inara backed up against the wall, still glaring up at him.

"Oh, learn one sad story about one of those poor girls, and its suddenly alright to let them keep on destroying whats left of their childhoods, so long as its for a bit of coin." she retorts, pushing Mal back and stepping forward to close the gap as the captain stumbles.

The captain turns away, beginning to pace angrily away from Inara "Like your one to talk about what a body should do fer coin." before pausing to turn around, finger leveled accusingly at Inara "I dont even rightly know why we're even havin' this talk, with me bein the Captain, and you bein a-"

"Aint it too early for you two ta be goin at it like this already?" A groggy, disheveled, goofily grinning Kaylee asks as she shambles into the room, half awake, and plops down into a chair.

Mals face slowly slides from its mask of anger, his train of thought lost, Inara eventually breaking the following silence by asking "Isnt it early for you to be awake Kaylee?"

The mechanic shrugs, still grinning as she slides down into her chair in an attempt to get more comfortable as she answers "Things must be going well with Rico, Simon actually came to our bunk to sleep for the first time in days. Had a _good_ night."

His brain finally back on track, Mal asks "Then, why arent you still having a... good night?" from his new position leaning up against the door leading towards the cockpit.

Kaylee shrugs, sighs, and responds "Simons alarm went off, and he had to go check some things... so I decided to throw some cloths on an-"

"Enough, I get it. Discussions over now anyways." Mal cuts his mechanic off, before pushing off of the wall and mumbling "Rent on the shuttles late 'Nara." as he leaves for his proper post in the cockpit to catch a bit more sleep before morning proper arrives.

****Broken****

Victor Hartmann prided himself on being an early riser, so he was more than a little surprised to find one Jayne Cobb already propped up against the door to the infirmary looking in as he walks past it on his way too the dining room. "Still sleepin if you was plannin on seein how she's holdin up." the merc announces without turning to look.

Hillshire pauses along his journey, before deciding to take the opposite doorjamb. Repressing a chuckle as he spots his gir- Triella, splayed out across a few chairs... what he wouldn't give for a camera right now. "Mind if I ask you a question, Cobb?" he eventually asks,. Receiving a noncommittal grunt as a response. "What exactly are your designs on Rico?"

"Dont rightly know... not that its any'a your business." the merc replies, still gazing into the infirmary.

"Humor me with a guess." Hillshire presses, determined to ensure all the remaining cyborgs safety, not just Triellas.

"Already said I dont know, ya idjit." the mercenary spits out "All I know's that she's the first kid I met since I wasn't one myself aint family that I can stand to be 'round an hear talk fer more'n a few minutes." he continues turning to face Hillshire. What Victor sees on Cobbs face for the few seconds his expression is still unguarded is enough to shock the German, despite the short time he has known Jayne. Worry, worry not directed at Jayne Cobbs own skin... and the telltale signs of a man who has more to say, but wont.

Before Hillshire can press further, Inaras voice cuts in "How is she?"

"Sleepin with the rest, whats it look like?" Jayne replies before pushing off the doorjamb and stalking off towards the crew quarters, clearly headed for his bunk.

Inara sighs, peering into the infirmary herself as Cobbs footsteps fade away to inaudibility "Children look so peaceful when their sleeping, don't they? Like all their cares had melted away."

Victor remains silent for a moment as he turns his attention back to the sleeping girls "If only that were true for these girls." the silence resumes for a while, barely broken by Inaras curious hum leading Victor to continue "We're pretty sure that they fall back into their repressed memories when their asleep... its the only thing that can explain why they weep in their sleep."

"You make it sound like they have no hope to escape their past." Inara replies softly, as if the level of speech Hillshire and Cobb had just been using would somehow wake the sleeping girls. "With the memories repressed aside from a few nightmares I'm certain they'll be able to move on, live normal lives as normal girls once Simon has healed them."

The former SWA handler sighs, and replies "If only it were that simple... some things one doesn't just forget. And for the cyborgs that are still alive the past hasn't necessarily stayed where the SWA tried to put it, or even remained the worst thing they could remember."

"So, Triella has remembered her past then?" Inara eventually replies, clearly aware that she could be stepping out onto thin ice.

"What about the others?" Hillshire asks, cocking an eyebrow as he turns to look back at the companion.

"Well, Rico has admitted to having never had her memory wiped, What Henrietta did before you were all frozen would trump just about any past trauma, and I doubt you know all that much about Petra, as she has Sandro." The silence holds for a few moments, and Hillshire unconvinced expression with it. "Fine, Mal mentioned that Triella told him about her past when we were talking earlier." she sheepishly caves in.

"You call the shouting match you two had talking?" Hillshire asks, expression still the same, though he does turn to face Inara, signaling that she now has his full attention, and to allow Simon to pass in one move."At least Triella and I are honest about what our arguments are."

"So, she is remembering then?" Inara presses, still clearly being led around by her curiosity.

Hillshire thinks for a moment, before he begins to walk towards the rooms the SWA people had been put up in, and signaling for the companion to follow. They enter his room which, while mostly bare, does have a few nicknacks decorating it, and enough furniture to store the mans small wardrobe. He drops onto the edge of his bed, and motions to a chair. "She has remembered a few snatches of when I got her out of Germany, but thankfully nothing before we rescued her."

"So... you rescued her, only to have her made into an assassin?" Inara asks disapproval starting to crawl across her face as she takes the indicated seat.

Hillshire shakes his head "Let me start back at the beginning... and dont pass judgment until you have heard the whole story." And so, he does, from his transfer to INTERPOL all the way through to when Triella first woke up at the SWA. Every iffy choice, every sordid deal and desperate moment... all of it. Probably with more accuracy and minute details than Triellas version that Mal heard. Sighing, he finishes "And from there, it was years of assassination work. Corrupt politicians and military officials, radical terrorists, collateral damage and long training sessions. Its all either of us knows at this point. And I think I can see why Triella would tell Mal what she knows of her past."

Inara tilts her head, still reeling from the story she had just been told, and asks "Why's that?"

"Mal is a straightforward man. He trusts h is crew and they trust him back... the sort that would only shoot an armed man in a fair fight. I could probably count the number of people like that we've dealt with from outside the agency on one hand." Victor replies, rising from his seat on his bed to lean against a wall, suddenly full of restless energy.

Inara stands as well, moving to follow Hillshire as he moves to leave his room again "You've only been on board a few weeks, isnt it a bit soon to be judging a persons character like that?"

Victor shrugs "I'm good at reading people... and when we realized that this would probably be the best job we could honestly hope to find I put a bit more effort into unraveling the man to be sure mine and Triellas gut instincts were right. Its amazing what you can find out about a man for free on the inter- on the Cortex." barely catching his verbal slip as he resumes his original journey to the mess hall, now incredibly hungry.

The companion giggles a bit "Isn't the employer supposed to look into the prospective employees background?"

"I dont like to go into anything blind anymore." Hillshire replies simply, not rising to the playful jibe.

"Not a morning person Victor?" the companion eventually asks. Victors simple shrug of a reply clues the companion in pretty clearly that the man was no longer in a mood for talking. Though she couldn't blame him, considering what he had just told her over the last few hours.

****Broken****

Simon Tam enters his infirmary with a slight grin on his face, and not only from the comical positions the interlopers to his ward had fell asleep in. For a few hours he works in content silence, putting the finishing touches on what he is almost certain will be a cure for the young cyborgs current ailment. "Hows it goin Simon?" a grease-covered Kaylee asks, poking her head into the infirmary, covered in grease and sweat.

"Nearly done. I was hoping to be finished by the time Rico wakes up, in fact." he replies matter-of-factly.

"MY TOES!" Petra exclaims, jerking awake from a dream, and spilling herself onto the floor, before checking said toes.

Triella groggily comes to moments later, and into the shocked silence that fell after the red headed cyborg realized what she had just done and sheepishly fell still and silent. "What about'em?" she groans out before trying to sit up. This of course leads to a good deal of shocked and confused sputtering, a particularly bad case of bucket-head and stale-popcorn-down-shirt syndrome. And, after the offensive bucket had been whipped across the room, another embarrassed, silent cyborg.

A polite snickering alerts the room to Rico's wakeful state, though she is glared into silence by her older friends in short order. "We're awake now?" Henrietta asks, shifting forward and nearly dumping River to the floor.

The reader looks up, patented scowl on her face, as she replies "No, still dreaming. But we need to go deeper to pull this job off." Henrietta replies with a huff and a pout shot at River, and again the room falls into amiable silence, until one of Simons machine dings.

He is about to announce something, until he notices all four cyborgs sniffing at the air. Confusion and slight disgust on three faces, and a small, knowing smile on one redheads face. Thinking quickly he orders "Girls, I'm about to administer the serum that I hope will get Rico her legs back... so why don't you all head out until she comes too? I'll need to monitor some levels and _really_ cant afford any distractions during this phase of the process."

The cyborgs and his little sister all nod in agreement and begin to shuffle from the room. Petras knowing grin widens an bit, and River calls him a boob wordlessly, but they leave before anyone can ask or accuse him of anything. The room now empty, Rico begins to ask "Simon, why do you smell-" her sentence cut off by a pinprick in her arm.

"Its a two-phase solution. You'll fall asleep shortly, and when you wake up, we'll know whether or not this worked." Simon explains as Rico drifts back to a peaceful looking sleep.

"You only mixed up one batch of whatever it is you were going to dose her with Simon." Kaylee calls him out.

He flashes her a wistful grin as he fills a syringe with the solution he had just removed from the machine he synthesized it in "Well, I wasnt about to explain to a bunch of girls perpetually stuck in the middle of, or just before puberty why we both smell funny – and the same."

Kaylee shrugs "I woulda for ya."

"That's what I was more afraid of." Simon jokes as he injects Rico with his cure "Though I do think it will be better this way. More merciful if I was wrong."

"You got it right. I know you did." Kaylee answers lovingly, before poking into the infirmary enough to drag Simon back out of it.

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><p>Thanks for reading, and if you did, no matter what you think, please review! Its the feedback and knowing that people are reading my stories and enjoying it that keep me going through writers block and hard to write spots.<p> 


	8. Chapter 8

First off, another big apology for the long delay. I tried, I really did, but unfortunately, Life Happens, and we often cant do anything about it. I wont bore you guys with the details, but work has kept me far too busy for my tastes for quite a while now. And since I cant predict when, or if things will calm down instead of setting myself deadlines, I'm going to try to update my profile more on how much, if any, progress has been made on this fic, as I cant be sure when I'll have time to work on it.

Thaat said, a massive thanks to:

VizeerLord - you should enjoy this chapter after a few of me playing with you guys

RC1212 - glad to know you are enjoying the character interplay from the different universes

terryguld - yea, grammar and spelling are one of my Achilles heels...

Ironclad - glad to know you are enjoying the story

DrakeDarkBlade - hey, it happens, no worries... and I can sympathise, haha

El Conservatore - thanks for the glowing review, and I'm glad your enjoying the story

And, without further ado, heres chapter 8!

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><p>The dining room felt... empty. It hadn't felt empty since they had found the failing SWA sleeper ship. Needless to say, River was restless. Very restless. The pacing was getting beyond annoying, which wasn't all that bad, annoying was manageable, especially with what passed for breakfast done and the leftovers having gone cold as of an hour ago. It was the waiting that was bad... that and the bad food. Well, all three combined... and the damned rhythmic thumping of oversized combat boots traveling back and forth over metal. And the stupid decision Triella had the unique displeasure of having to make soon, as to whether she wanted to spend her bit of saved up water ration for the long cross-planet trip for washing to clean her body first, leaving her hair not feeling clean due to the recycled state the sponge-bath water would be in; or start with her hair and feel greasy until they landed and running water could be turned back on. "Hair, face and pits." River interjects, tilting her head sideways to look at Triela "best way to feel clean but still being dirty. Bachelors are right... I like to to add the small of my back too."<p>

This interjection completely derails Trielas train of thought of course, and, in addition to being just a tad too much information on the end. "How did you – Oh. Right. Reader." Triela replies, not leaving her place sitting backwards in the chair she had taken breakfast in. River straightens her head and archers her left eyebrow, which, transitioning from her previous angle looking at Triela has the same effect as tilting it, before resuming her pacing.

"We really need to find something to do." Henrietta interjects after a few more minutes of near silence. "It will just seem so sad if we're all sitting here waiting for Rico when she comes to find us."

Triela heaves a sigh and replies "I'm going to go and see if Inara will lend me a bit of whatever she saved up to wash with. I think she mentioned that she doesn't have any appointments until a few days after we're scheduled to land." shoving the chair towards the table, causing it to topple back to the ground upon impact.

"I'm sure we'll have figured something out by the time your back then. You take forever washing up, even more since we woke up in the future." Petra teasingly replies from her spot lounging on the back two legs of her chair, feet on the table as everyone else jumps a bit.

"I do not!" Triela exclaims, a slight blush creeping to her face "I just... I don't want to miss anything when I get so few chances is all."

Henrietta raises a hand to the side of her mouth in mock secrecy "She sounded like Jayne there" the chestnut haired cyborg exclaims to River in a horse voice, intimating a whisper without actually making herself hard to hear. Of course this is just after the cyborg in question had left the room... it just wouldn't have been polite to crack the joke to her face. A small storm of giggles rushes through the room, before silence takes over again. After a few minutes, Henrietta breaks it again "We should find something to do with Rico when she wakes up." The other girls nod in ascent, though the entire group remains in the throws of inactivity and indecision.

Eventually River pauses her pacing before announcing "We might find something in with the rest of the antiques from Earth that was." and moving to leave for the cargo bay. Shrugging Petra lets her chair fall backwards, slinks into a backwards somersault up to her feet, then moves to follow the other girls, Henrietta having moved to follow the reader just moments before.

****Broken****

It had taken hours of searching, but the girls had found something worth doing. Two battered collapsible goals, a deflated ball, and a few boxes full of jerseys. In short, the remnants of the SWA cyborgs foray into running an arena football league in the cafeteria. Henrietta held her own jersey – generation 2 cyborgs learning graphic design as an elective course had been a boon to the league, and quietly reminisced. It had honestly been a terrible idea in hindsight, and one of the best times of her life, despite the fact that everything had gone wrong so shortly after it ended. She ran her fingers over the lettering, a small smile crossing her face as she traced the team name, the "Shooting Stars" had been the best Gen 1 team in the league. She flipped the jersey over to trace the golden number Eleven dominating the royal blue and silver trimmed jersey; "Sweetie" emblazoned just above it in the same color.

Of course, they had been the best, because they had the best players. She had had the best Shots Taken:Goals ratio, only a handful of girls had even been in the same league as her. The same could be said of Triela the steel wall "Princess" in the goalbox, Rico "Tenspeed" had been everywhere at once as a mid. Claes and Angelica had been nigh impenetrable at defense. Claes the "Bruiser" could take a hit that most girls would take a fall for in stride, then send the ball back up-field. What could be said, the refs were section 1 goons ballsy enough to be in the same cafeteria turned playing field with a bunch of kids that could kick like the best of major league baseball players wished they could pitch, calls got missed, and the girl who spent all day having her body broken and rebuilt could take a hit. Of course, Angelica "Dancer" had just avoided the hits and pilfered what was supposed to be unstealable. And with Beatrice "Headcase" setting up shots for Henrietta from impossible angles it had all seemed so easy.

The chestnut haired cyborgs smile deepens as she makes her way to the smuggling compartment off to the side of the cargo bay to change into her jersey. She absentmindedly noted River stuffing Ricos jersey into Jaynes arms, but was to lost in happy memories to catch what the Reader said to him. Of course, the league had ended shortly before Angie had fallen ill for the last time. Then again, a stray ball nearly powdering a gen 2 cyborgs nose before successfully doing the same to the security camera the cyborgs had been watching on in the semi-finals to see who would challenge the mighty Shooting Stars. Just as well that a nearly comatose cyborg and ruined equipment had forced Lorenzo to step in to end the league, they probably would have lost without Angie, and the distraction could have made the following disastrous months even harsher.

It only took a few minutes for Henrietta to change, but by the time she emerges from the hidden storage compartment, Triela had set up the old league stereo, which was just beginning "Sandstorm", which was the start of the pre-game mix it was always loaded with. Petra was gazing wistfully at her pink and white 08 jersey, fingering the lettering "Ballerina" it read... they had had a strict rule about only nicknames going on jerseys, the redhead lost to her own world of thought. "It'll fit Riv. Trust me." Triela assures River as she clutches Angelicas old uniform.

"Going to be too tight... and I'm in a dress." River deadpans, glancing back and forth between the piece of cloth and the twintailed cyborg.

"Jerseys are supposed to be snug, that way the ref knows when your being held back." Triela replies calmly, already starting to stretch a bit.

"I'm still wearing a dress." River replies, shooting Triela her 'your such a boob look' as she does so. Before adding "And we wont have any referees."

The tan cyborg heaves a sigh, reaches down into the box, grabs a pair of shorts, and shoves the lighter girl towards what was now the changing room, sticking her tongue out at her as she does so. After the door slides shut, Triela composes her face and says "Now how are we gonna split up so that its a fair game? 'Cause _Shooting Stars_ vs all comers wouldnt be much fun... probably just get the other team mad."

"Well, if we're on separate teams wont it be fair?" Henrietta asks after a few moments of silence.

"Rico doesnt have the patience to play keeper, and Petra is about as useful as goalie as Hillshire is at lightening a mood." Triela snickers

"I've seen him get you to laugh plenty of times Blondie." Petra snaps indignantly, her reverie broken.

"I was laughing _at_ that stick in the mud, not with him Red." Triela retaliates, blushing a bit.

Henrieta, now going through butterfly stretches, snickers out "So, you admit your terrible in the Box then?"

"I prefer Sandro over any girl, so yes." Petra deadpans, leaning up against the support strut for the stairs up from the floor of the cargo bay.

Triela, now fully blushing, opens her mouth to cut off the question clearly forming in behind Henriettas now confused facade, only to be cut off by River emerging from the changing room, pulling at the snugly fitting jersey "Fits like a leotard." she absentmindedly quips, killing off the line of conversation with a flurry of facepalms.

Smirking, Petra ducks into the changing area, cutting off Triela, who had been poised to go next. Glowering, the older cyborg sighs "so, us on separate teams, figure out the rest... when we know whose playing?" trying to dance around the fact that they were still unsure as to whether or not Rico would be able to join them or not, by alluding to the fact that other crewmates may decide to get in on the fun.

****Broken****

"Hey Tiny, Feng Le wanted me ta give this-" Jayne is cut off by Simon putting a finger to the mercs mouth.

"She should be waking up soon enough as it is. In case you hadn't noticed, she didnt sleep all that much, or all that well for the past few days." the doctor half-whispers.

Jayne moves to open his mouth, drifting towards the doorway "So, no idea as to whether yer fix worked or not yet then?"

"I just finished finished running some tests and-" Simon is cut off by a stirring in the infirmary. First, Rico shifts her upper body, then rolls a bit, groaning, like any kid would while waking up. Then, her toes shift, just a bit, as if in stretching. She immediately bolts upright, her eyes truly light up for the first time in nearly a week, and like a cannonball she's off.

Jayne Cobb knows that he is a big man, often the largest in the room, and that that is all that saves him from being bowled over by an exuberant cyborg wrapping him up in the biggest hug she can muster, before bouncing to the doctor responsible, and Janye is sure he can here ribs cracking as he stumbles back forwards while Rico gives Simon the same hug Jayne had just received, though with less momentum.

"I can feel my legs again!" Rico exclaims, exuberantly. Then, she spots her football jersey, grabs both mens hands, and with a weeks worth of pent up energy starts dragging them along towards the cargo bay. There is no room for protest, or time to recover from the shock, the men simply follow along as best they can. Upon reaching the cargo bay she releases the mens hands, grabs her jersey, and vaults over the catwalks railing to land amongst her sisters just as Petra exits the changing room.

"Better hurry up and get in uniform or you wont have time to stretch before the game starts." Triela greets the other blond cyborg, her smile growing to match the smallers 10,000 watt grin, watching as Rico dashes to the changing room.

Jayne is the first down the stairs to the cargo-bays floor "So, what're we playin?"

"Football." Henrietta replies from her position on the floor, still stretching.

"Care to explain the rules to us?" Simon cautiously asks, not stopping at the foot of the steps, as Jayne makes his way to an unoccupied spot on the floor to start stretching himself.

Triela starts running through the rules only to be cut off by Jayne not too far into the explanation "Right, I'm not bad as keeper. Count me in." as Rico exits, "Zombie Nation" just beginning on the pre-game playlist.

Simon, being more aware of exactly what the cyborgs, and his sister, are capable of shakes his head, a slight grin on his face, and interjects "I reffed as a weekend job in medicad. I'll ref your game... from the catwalk."

Triela shoots an impish grin at River as she continues to stretch "And you said we wouldn't have a ref."

River, for her part, just sticks her tongue out at Triela, retaliating the other girls previous childish jibe, before answering "I'm sure ge-ge will be a great ref."

Simon chuckles "I also wont play favorites." Rivers reply is to shoot her older brother the best puppy-eyes she could "And you know that face stopped working on me years ago River." the readers face shifts to a pout, then finally back to the mildly serious expression she had been wearing before the exchange as Simon turns to ascend the stairs back up to the catwalk.

After a few more minutes of stretching, and light warm-up drills, Simon asks "So who will the teams be, and how will I be able to tell them apart?" Jayne opens his mouth, but Simon cuts him off "Dont even suggest 'shirts and skins' not a one of those girls is even close to your age, or legal." the merc simply scowls at the doctor, before returning to stretching.

Triela looks around before answering "Me, Rico and River against Jayne Henrietta and Petra."

"And how will you tell each other apart during the game exactly?" Simon prompts, a bemused look on his face as he watches Rico out of the corner of his eye, mindful for any signs of relapse.

"Well, there are those horribly gaudy red headbands that one of the teams wore." Petra offers, clearly not liking the idea of having to wear said headgear.

"Didnt they get knocked out in round one? Before we got our uniforms?" Rico prompts, putting her index finger to the corner of her mouth as she juggles a practice ball, alternating between her feet and head.

Triela shrugs "My team will wear them."

River shoots the twintailed cyborg a scowl "Who said you were in charge?".

"Its the keepers job to lead the team to victory." Treila announces, posing rather dramatically, hands on her hips. Rico nods and River sulks as the overly bright neon red headbands are passed out.

Jayne cocks a grin "Alright team, heres the plan-"

"What do you think your doing Cobb?" Petra asks, cocking an eyebrow and turning her head to look at the merc.

"Well, a keepers gotta lead'is team to-"

"With an ace striker like 'Etta we'd be stupid not to listen to her. You just keep the other team from scoring." she cuts him off again, as Henrietta starts to giggle.

Simon cuts through the conversation with a shrill whistle "Alright girls, get that stereo off the field and line up. You've had enough time to stretch and warm up I think."

"Wha'd you just call me doc?" Jayne demands, Rico and River joining the now nearly uncontrollable fits of giggles Henrietta is in the throws of.

"I think he called you a girl Jayne." Rico manages to squeak out, hunching over from laughter.

Jayne shoots Rico a mildly betrayed, annoyed look "Gorramit Tiny, dont you go backing them up too!" this incapacitates nearly the entire cargo bay with laughter.

After Triela clears the field the others had calmed down enough to start actually playing. With a shrill whistle, Simon starts the game. Henrietta easily beats Rico for the ball, and blows past her, only for Rivers mild precognition to allow her to easily pilfer the ball and send it up-field to Rico moments later. The placement is perfect, and the young cyborg takes the shot, only for Jayne to block it with his chest, grunting, and rubbing the now sore spot after sending the ball back down-field.

Petra leaps into a bicycle-kick, re-directing the ball up to Henrietta the red-head landing on her feet adroitly as Henrietta knocks the ball down. Triela barely manages to deflect the shot on her hands, diving to the far corner of the goalbox. River throws herself into a backwards handspring, her feet connecting with the ball at the acrobatic maneuvers apex, changing the black and white rockets trajectory to one perfect for Rico to head into the goal. However, Jayne is able to punch the ball straight down, catch it on the bounce and roll it with almost as much speed to Petra. The mercs hand is nearly as bright a shade of red as his opponents headbands, but he doesn't take his eyes off the ball as he shakes the now sore appendage. The pace of the game had been set, fast and brutal, and no one could afford to let their eyes off the ball or head out of the game for even a second.

****Broken****

Two hours later, the entire crew lay sprawled out on the cargo bay floor, dripping sweat, exhausted, and happy. Well, the whole crew save Simon and Inara, who were perched on the catwalk, where they had refereed and watched the game from respectively. Hillshire and Sandro had went to their respective cyborgs teams, Kaylee and Mal splitting to even out the teams as best their respective skills could. No one really knew what the final score had been, and Jayne felt like he had just finished being beaten by a quartet of professional boxers, but to say the crews overall morale was higher would be a massive understatement.

Petra rolls her head along the ground to look at Triela "So, how was that bath ya took this morning?"

The blond cyborg tilts her head down to look at her sweat-drenched form "Luckily, I decided to wait. I'd figured we were gonna end up doing something like this once Rico got up and moving again."

Henrietta groans "Why didn't I think of that? We aren't supposed to reach Persephone for a few more days." her voice sounding increasingly whiny as she goes on.

Jayne scoffs from where he is slouched against a support beam "Hey, its been more'n a week since I washed up. Aint that bad."

"An we all love ya for it Jayne. But girls tend to prefer being clean and _not_ smelling when compared to men." Mal answers exasperatedly.

"Can it Mal." Jayne shoots back crossly.

"Whats he so sore about? Though it was a fun game myself." Kaylee asks no-one in particular.

"Literally sore. And its going to be much worse than what the rest of us will be feeling for much longer." River answers airily, still panting from exertion.

"Well, its his own damn fault for getting in the box with cyborgs lining up to take shots at him." Triela answers nonchalantly.

"Triela, language." Hillshire half-heartedly chastises the tan cyborg. After considerable effort, the cyborg in question shifts her position on the floor enough to glare at her handler from across the room until it takes too much effort to hold that position.

"So, how long do you give it before they get up off the floor?" Simon quietly asks Inara.

The companion eyes the collapsed players appraisingly "Seeing as Jayne is the one that lost me the bet last time by getting up... 20 platinum says five minutes. Jayne's just one big bruise under that shirt."

Simon smirks at the companion "I'll take that bet. Under three." the companion simply boggles at the doctor as a response. Two minutes later, Rico is up and on her way to get food, and Simon is 20 platinum richer.

****Broken****

Rico fidgets on the edge of the seat in the infirmary a two days later, the soonest Simon could get her back in the room for a follow-up check-up. Every time the doctor touches or brushes her now spider-web scarred feet, a small grimace passes the cyborgs face. As the whirring of the blood analyzer dies down, after nearly 15 minutes of silent probing Simon breaks the silence "It looks like your body has fully accepted the replacement limbs. I can separate the rejection suppressant compounds from your conditioning cocktail, and should be able to apply the same fix to the other cyborgs." he takes a deep breath, before adding "However, that also means that you are stuck with the limbs and organs you have right now, replacement is even less an option than it was after you woke up. Additionally, your growth will continue to be mostly stunted due to the more or less foreign nature of your muscles and bones."

Rico tilts her head "Stunted growth? I thought we were all just late bloomers."

"Yes, a girl your age should have had more than the one growth spurt your pictures show taking place. Over the past, three years?" Simon asks and explains in one.

"Hundred, actually." Rico answers, smirking. Simons answer to her quip is his best approximation of his sisters 'your such a boob' look.

"On a different note, you should be happy to learn that the synthetic nerve tissue your cybernetic enhancements use is close enough to the real thing that you should get full sensation back eventually, and the... the rawness, of the nerves will subside eventually as well." Simon continues, his voice falling with each word of the sentence.

"So... I'm free to go then? Mal is letting River let Henrietta help land the ship, and I want to watch." Simon just nods, clearly still less than happy about the lasting effects of how he found a suitable treatment for Ricos condition, despite her seeming to not care about the lasting repercussions it will have.

Rico, for her part, skips her way to the cockpit, a small grin on her face. She can move again, she can walk. Thats all the more she could really ask for. She makes it to the cockpit, where Henrietta is sitting in the co-pilots chair, the multitude of flashing, blinking displays making it obvious that she is the one landing the ship, River observing, hand near the emergency override controls, but not hovering. Henrietta's face a calm, almost content mask of concentration. The approach is smooth, corrections to the course from high orbit to Eavesdown docks applied like gentle caresses, and touchdown like crawling into bed after a long days work. In short, the brunette cyborg executes a perfect landing into one of the busiest ports in the rimward planets in the middle of the day, when traffic is highest. Mal lets out a low whistle "If I didnt know any better I'd say I'd say that'd been the Bit or Wash landin 'Etta." he turns to look away from the viewport to see the entire crew standing behind him, watching. He sighs "Gonna have runnin water an' be off ration'n ten minutes." which clears every female save Rico out of the cockpit. "An we have 6 hours till we gotta meet with the next buyer, 'nuff time fer a drink and some food aint rehydrated or come out of a can." he adds as Henrietta nearly bowls him over.

Jayne looks over to Sandro "Bar time?" the blonde man shakes his head, casting a sheepish glance at Petras retreating form, shifting from disappointed to sympathetic. Then he shifts his gaze to Hillshire, grinning and raising his eyebrows in a clear question.

Mal rolls his eyes "Jayne, you an Vic are on security, Petra's gonna play Sandros role this time."

"Just gonna- going to go to a diner then." Hillshire answers Cobbs silent question.

"Why me?" Petra asks, pausing and looking over her shoulder as the rest of the women pass her on their exodus to the showers.

"Cause this time its old cloths we're sellin. It'd be suspicious if Sandro was the one doin the talkin 'bout the bits we're sellin." Mal answers plainly.

Inara, having stopped as well, releases a very unladylike snort "Thats rather sexist of you Mal." her eybrow arched crossly.

"Hey, I wore a dress and bonnet for a job once. Means I'm allowed to be sympathetic to my fellow men 'bout situations like that." Mal defends himself.

"And ya never did tell the story that was supposed to make that make sense to us after the job." Jayne adds sounding a bit down as he casts mildly betrayed glances at the other two men that there was a moderate chance of him convincing to hit the bars with him before they had to work. Mal never did, at least as far as Rico had seen.

Said captain turns an incredulous glare at the merc "That's cause'a that kuang zhe de gou shi with 'Saffron' happened right after that job. Iffin ya wanna know that bad, ask."

"I could just play the part of a gay man." Sandro offers, sounding more or less indifferent, resulting in Petra glaring daggers through his skull, though his back being to her insulates him from the death glare.

"Oh, like that makes it all better." Inara quips acidly.

"All this feminism comin from the whores kinda off, aint it?" Jayne asks no one in particular, as he leans back against a wall, clearly settling in for what he thinks will be a good show.

"Hey, dont call'er that!" Mal retorts.

"And you dont get to act like that _ever again_" Petra seethes at Sandro.

"What, so you can but no one else can?" Jayne bites back at the captain, smirking now.

Sandro chuckles "Bi zui Petra. You know the fact that you couldnt flirt with me as much as you normally get to for that whole mission just made our victory celebration afterwards that much better. You were _sooo _pent up that night from the lack of contact that-"

Mal half retches loudly and fakely, before swiveling his head towards Sandro "I cant know that! And didnt I already tell you two not to go reminiscin' 'bout that kinda gou shi 'round me?"

"Could stand to hear a bit more myself." Jayne deadpans, grin still in place, though a lecherous glint can be seen in his eyes now.

"Out." Mal orders the merc, pointing to the cockpits exit, not breaking eye contact with Sandro. When Rico moves to follow the merc, mals head swivels to lock on the young blond "An where're you goin Rico."

"With Jayne." she answers plainly.

Despite his best efforts to slink away silently, Jayne still feels Mals glare bore into his back "No titty-bars iffin shes taggin along."

"Why not?" Rico asks, honestly confused as to what the problem is.

"Thats exactly why Rico, you dont get it." Mal answers exasperatedly "Havin you an 'Etta on my bout right when your right on the edge of... sprouting, makes me nervous enough, I dont much like surprises, especially the uncomfortable sort."

"And what if thats just the team she plays for?" Jayne retorts, still holding out against the captains insistence, though not by much.

Mal heaves a sigh "Then she'll find out on her own, in her own time. Dont need you confusing the issue any." Rico, for her part, gets even more confused by all the veiled comments.

Sandro shrugs and turns to leave "We'll probably know soon enough anyways. Most of the drugs keeping them more or less the age they were cybernized at are gone or will be soon."

Jayne shrugs, and turns to leave as well, the fireworks clearly over, despite the daggers still being glared through his captains head by Inara "C'mon Tiny, should probably get cleaned up before we head out." Rico nods, and tags along behind Jayne.

****Broken****

It is late evening by the time Triela and Henrietta get back to _Serenity_, a somewhat bored looking Rico in tow, carrying her former roommates bags. Triela had insisted that she come along with her and Henrietta on their outing to let the younger girl pick out her own wardrobe. Rico had seemed excited at first, but the trips main benificiaries more feminine tastes, and the trip leaders stalwart refusal to let Rico stray into any of the gun stores as those were 'work related'. Though the smaller blond did have one print, and a single t-shirt from a shop she had conned the other girls into following her into that didnt fit Henriettas tastes _at all_. So, despite the fact that the brunette had picked nearly half a dozen t-shirts from the shop herself, Triela thought it was a fitting punishment that Rico carry hers and Henriettas heavier bags while they take her two lighter purchases.

So it is that the two happy, and one mildly peeved and bored cyborg are shocked to see the cargo bay full, and not only with crewmates enjoying to cool evening air after a successful job, or the panic of the fallout of one of them being wounded. No, it is a resigned looking captain, flanked by an armed and agitated Jayne and Victor facing down a man in a dirty, almost ratty suit flanked by four of his own thug-like armed guards, a boulder hat resting atop the strangers leaders head. "Badger, what the ruttin hell do you want with us?" Mal asks the leader, who apparently just arrived, a scowl on his face and his hand on the but of his undrawn pistol.

"To talk business, what else?" Badger asks, in a slimey, overly friendly voice that puts Triela, along with every other cyborg on edge.

"An why the ruttin hell would I want to do a fool thing like that?" Mal shoots back crossly.

"Because you need the work, why else..." he trails off smoothly, leaving the reason why they would need his work unstated.

Jayne Cobb, however, does not "Thats only 'cause ya sold every other contact'a ours ya knew about out to that Agent back durin that mess with Miranda ta save yer own skin. Yer lucky I dont put a hole in yer skull right now." sneering, and shouldering Veera he adds "And what makes you think we need the work?"

"Because this ship is always barely scraping by, desperate, and absolute crap at hiding it." Badger replies calmly as he makes his way over to one of the still full crates that had been hauled back from the most recent job, and dropping down to sit on it. Mal shifts slightly, unwilling to reveal his ships recent windfall, especially to the man standing in front of him. Of course, thats how anyone who truly knew Malcom Reynolds would interpret his unease; Badger turns, sees the recently returned cyborgs and adds "Besides, it looks like your replacement crew brought along some expensive deadweight. Gotta keep them happy after all... I know I would." the lecherous glint his eyes take on as he eyes over the trio sends shivers down all three of their spines.

Mal motions to Jayne to stand down, the shady businessman has them trapped, but not for the reason he thinks he does. "Whats the job, and who is it for?"

Grinning like the cat that got the cream, Badger turns back to Mal and replies in an overly cheery voice "I think you may actually like this one. The Alliance, in response to all the unrest that has been cropping up for no apparent reason of late, is closing down a sizable fort/research station on Greenleaf."

"And we care because, why?" Jayne asks in a sour, positively surly tone, the safety on Veera clearly still not set to 'safe'.

"You care because there is a better financed than yourselves pack of ben-dan's with an obsession for the same sort of coat your captain wears are paying good coin for the weapons and research materials from the inside of that building." he snaps back, gracing the merc with an annoyed glare.

"So, you think that just because a pack of bandits are callin themselves Browncoats I'll melt to you and throw myself halfway cross the verse for some coin?" Mal asks, still looking rather cross himself.

"No, I expect you to do the damn job because its for your precious Independent Command, you'll starve otherwise, it will pay better than your sergeants commission ever did even after my 75% and you pay your crew... plus I own these docks, and you cant get clearance to leave until sunup." Badger bites, anger now in his eyes "pay for fuel upfront, dont worry, its on my books and will come out of your end once we get paid."

"Thats a crap deal and I aint gonna-" Mal is cut off as Badger motions to one of his guards, none of whom had returned their weapons to a relaxed state, and one of the -thankfully- empty crates goes flying across the cargo hold, now riddled with bullets. The entire cargo bay falls from the cacaphony of angry and offended objecting to dead silence.

"You wanna leave my docks, work again, or even so much as eat during the next week, this is how it is. I'll send the contact information and particulars in a wave." Badger nearly barks, before spinning on his heel and leaving the cargo bay.

After a few minutes of stunned angry silence, Hartmann interjects "So, we're just going to take this laying down captain?"

Seething, Mal replies "For now Vic. Not much we can do when the haduns probably gotr more guns on this boat than we have arms and legs combined."

Sandro shakes his head "I cant believe you let him play us that openly and that badly Mal. I could run circles around him drunk."

Jayne snorts derisively, and safing his gun as he stalks off replies "Even I could. We're always getting taken like that. Get used to it... I'll be in my bunk."

Victor sighs "He certainly did live up to all of the ratty, unkempt, self-important vain-glorious self-importance you painted him in captain. How much does he owe us again?"

"More than I care to admit iffin I was gonna be perfectly honest." the captain replies defeatedly.

"When do we get to even the core then?" Triela asks as she and the other two cyborgs finish boarding _Serenity._

"Dunno. Depends on when the cap'n gets tired of dealing with the scumbag now I guess. Fer 'owning this prot' he really has a crap handle on how much good parts run. Our girls as close to new as she'll get save rebuildin the engine'r replacin the frame." Kaylee interjects from her perch atop the catwalk, where she had calmly and uncaringly watched the entire display next to Simon, her hand still intertwined in his.

"And the infirmary is fully stocked too." Simon adds slyly.

"Why didnt we just kill him then?" Rico asks as she lugs the shopping bags up the stairs.

"Or at least kick him out... all of us are armed." Henrietta adds from behind Rico.

"Cause that woulda given away all the money we've been makin, which woulda given you folk away." Mal answers tiredly "Sides, wokin fer Independent Command again tickles me, even if they aint the real thing, an I'm Captain. So quit gripin an catch some shut-eye. We're headed out first thing tomorrow. Greenleafs a long way off from here."

* * *

><p>AN - football = soccer if you arent familiar with non-American terminology... it just didnt make sense for a bunch of Europeans to talk about playing "soccer" when the only country that does that is the USA (not being condescending, I'm from Wisconsin myself, heh)

Please, please review!


	9. Chapter 9

Yea, it took me along time to update again, sorry. I tryt to be quicker I really do, but life never lets me. That said, Woohoo! Broke the 30 review mark! and 20 favorites and follows! You guys rock, thank you so much! And now, for review replies.

RC1212: Well, here it is, what happens next, haha, and I'm glad you like the story.

DrakeDarkblade: Yea, work gets on my nerves too, especially when it prevents me from working on this... And dont worry, Badger will get his.

crimsonkatana: I'm glad to hear that you like how I'm handling the crossover.

Penlock: Glad to hear that your enjoying my fic and like my pacing and writing style! As for how I come up with all this, well, work is boring sometimes, and my mind tends to wander to some pretty strange places, haha.

That done, here ya go, Chapter 9 for your reading pleasure!

* * *

><p>It had been half a weeks journey to Greenleaf, and the atmosphere in the common room on <em>Serenity<em> is tense to say the least. The information on the job had been pathetically slim even after digging for more for days. Collect as many weapons and as much research material as possible, pay increases past a certain amount, rendezvous at the Li Shen Bazaar. The base was officially abandoned as of 24 hours before _Serenity_ set down on Greanleaf, and the job wasn't exactly a secret... and now River was saying it was going to be bloody. Said reader is sitting at the dinner table in the light blue dress and combat boots she usually wore for jobs, polishing her Reaver axes seemingly oblivious to the other people in the room. Triela is seated opposite the brunette in the fitted red jeans and tan blouse that had the less polite crew-members calling her 'mini Zoe' sliding spare shells for her M1897 into a pair of leather full body bandoliers she was adding to her ensemble for today. Jayne and Rico are both seated at the far side of the table both clad in t-shirts and jeans, the former in his Blue Sun t-shirt, the slash River had opened it stitched shut in blood red, the latter in the same blue red and gold one from the Athens job. Jayne is idly cleaning Veera, Rico loading drum magazines for Bessy, her MG3.

Hillshire is seated next to Triela, calmly looking over the plans to the abandoned fort, the .45 semi-auto handgun he had purchased before leaving the Eavesdown docks sitting off to the side of the blue-prints, freshly polished, plenty of spare magazines strapped to the kevlar vest he is wearing over a plain white button-down shirt. Next to him opposite Triella sit Sandro and Petra, both of them with weapons just as ready as Hillshires on the table; the girl clad in denim short-shorts and a black tank-top, offset by an oversized, albeit form-fitting gun-belt, the man in a dust-colored button down shirt, sleeves rolled up past his elbows, and blue jeans a few shades darker than Hillshires plain gray slacks.

All conversation in the room halts when Henrietta walks in, wearing a gray pleated mini-skirt and white blouse, P90, ammunition, and a cleaning kit weighing her down. She claims the seat next to Rico, and with practiced ease sets about returning her preferred primary weapon to its optimal state. After a few minutes of busy silence, Mal walks in, and, without any preamble announces "Spotted at least five other ships size of our girl or bigger around the target. Probably mercs... though more'n'a few smaller ships probably belonging to bandits are all spread out past the range us professionals landed at. Got yer grenades Jayne?"

The merc grins, dangling a bandolier laden with aforementioned explosives and a few cigars "Soon as Riv said it'd be bloody I grabbed'em."

Rico looks up, a wide grin plastered across her face as she reaches over her shoulder and produces a compact grenade launcher, the type that is meant to be attached to a rifle dangling from a camouflaged sling "Jayne said he dindt have a spot for this on Veera so I get to use it!"

The captain cocks an eyebrow at the two, before replying "Good. The two of you'll be guarding the door best possible once we get in, seein' as its likely we arent gonna be the last ones here. The rest are stormin' the fort. Vic, whats the plan for that?"

The black haired man slides the blueprint to the center of the table and produces a laser pointer from his pocket to indicate what section of the fort he is referring to before beginning "We'll enter through the landing pad entrance, which Jayne and Rico will hold."

"Thought we was goin through the front door." Jayne quips, leaning forward and resting his right forearm on the table.

"As will every other pack of looters. 'Sides, how do you intend to get our loot back to _Serenity_, lug it through the jungle?" Hillshire responds levelly, a red dot still on the landing pad entrance "The rest of us will proceed through the fort up to this point." he indicates a major junction "From here River and Triella will split off to hold the front entrance, and check if anything is left in the forward armory."

"Not that we'll find anything, the security on it is probably gou shi" Triella crossly quips.

"Trusting us to make sure the plan goes smoothly." River reassures her partner in a sing-songy, almost teasing voice.

Victor glares a quick set of daggers at the pair, before continuing "The rest of us will continue on to the vault and main armory, take what we can, then load up _Serenity_."

"How many times are we roatatin' our guards. I suspect things'll get awfully tiring out front." Mal asks, looking a bit concerned.

Victor shrugs "Thats where Inara comes in. Once we have the fort all to ourselves on the inside, She'll move _Serenity_ to the landing pad so we can fill the cargo bay quickly."

Rico nods mocking understanding, before asking "How are we sure that there is even anything left to take in the fort? Wouldn't the Alliance take all of their gear when they left?"

Sandro glances over to Rico, leans back in his seat and replies "Base's C.O. was going Brown according to rumor. Lots of 10,000 credit hammers and lost weapon shipments." nonchalantly.

"Base staff was probably all split up, so more'n a few folks found out about the stash and want to get hands on it." Mal finishes with the extent of their knowledge of the jobs backstory before glancing over to Victor "Which brings us back to the part where you get to decide where this ship goes Vic." his visage going cold and deadly serious as he does so.

The former handler is unimpressed, and answers "Inara was going to be watching the ship anyways, she'll be safer with us nearby, regardless of any firefights, and it will increase the size of our take."

"And I AM more than capable of lifting off and landing _Serenity_ less than a mile away from where she is right now, Mal." the companion in question cuts in as she sashays into the room in a light, comfortable looking green and brown dress. She leans up against the wall just behind the captain and crosses her arms loosely.

The captain heaves a sigh, shaking his head before interjecting "Plans solid enough, we move out in 10."

"I... um, I'm not sure if my P90 will be ready by then..." Henrietta interjects before the captain can turn to exit.

"Do a quick an' dirty then 'Etta, there's violence to be done." Jayne tosses off as he leans back in his chair with a grin, Rico following suit seconds later.

"Do a... a what?" Henrietta asks, looking up from her work.

"Dont gotta be absolutely perfect'n'shiny Henrietta. Chances are good you'll need to clean it again after this jobs done. Greenleaf isnt precisely the cleanest place in the verse." Mal answers, leaning up next to Inara against the wall.

"Not as bad as, say, Higgins Moon, but still..." Inara interjects, an impish smile on her face.

"How is it you arent already workin yer own job now anyhow?" Jayne asks the companion crossly.

"I choose my clients Jayne, I thought you knew that" Inara shoots back, grin still in place "and _apes_ arent the sort of clients I take, if you haven't noticed yet."

"All pretty boys and stuck up haduns from what I've been told" Triela interjects as she stands and begins fidgeting with her bandoliers to get them to fit properly.

Smirking a bit himself at the banter, Mal adds "Still, its good to hear she has some standards... least to her mind." The humor drains from the companions face almost terrifyingly quickly, and she pushes off from her place against the wall and storms from the room Mal wheels about as he pushes off of the wall moments later, confused and frozen to his spot for a moment before setting off to follow the now irate companion "Hey, 'Nara, wait!"

Petra starts giggling after the duo is out of earshot "I dont think she even gets why he gets her so mad."

"I dont really get it either... but its fun to set them up like that sometimes." Triela responds as Hillshire rises to pull her bandoliers tight before turning for her to double-check the clasps on his vest.

"Isnt it obvious?" Sandro asks as the rest of the table begins to rise, save Henrietta who is still feverishly applying much needed maintenance to her weapon.

"Well, yea... I just dont understand the why is all." Triela defends herself

" 'Is all', Triella?" Hartmann deadpans as the group begins to exit the common room towards the hangar, leaving Henrietta behind to rush against the clock.

"Colloquialisms are contagious, and just catching the bug makes it a lot easier to blend in than fighting it." Triella defends herself "If you didnt spend so much time between missions on the ship..."

****Broken****

Ten minutes after leaving _Serenity_ and fighting through the dense foliage in the humid air the entire crew is sweating, and in a sour mood. Jayne, who had started in the lead with the ships only good machete, is actually dripping sweat as he hacks away at the foliage, clearly pissed and venting his anger on the plants before them. Of course, it isnt exactly the most complete path-clearing, which Henrietta discovers as her foot catches on a hidden root, and she falls flat on her face in a puddle of mud and spores from a nearby bevy of mushrooms "I hate nature." she grumbles to no one in particular as she rises, wipes her gun clean, then does her best to remove the grime from her face, hair and now ruined shirt.

"I'll take it from here." Hillshire offers, catching Jaynes hand on the back-swing as Henrietta catches up "Cant have any of us getting too tired before we get to the fort." The merc allows Victor to take the machete, responding only with an appreciative nod and grunt, followed by wiping his forehead and falling back to the center of the group.

After another ten grueling minutes of hacking through the foliage, the crew can see the fort. "Looks like we arent the only ones had the idea to take the landing pad." Jayne observes, working the action on veera.

Mal shrugs, before replying "Triela, 'Etta Vic an I will rush'em, Jayne an Rico cover us, the rest follow then we'll finish with Vics plan." as he draws and checks his gun one last time before the violence starts.

"Gimme five ta get a good spot." Jayne answers, glancing at the low-lying branches above them."

"I'll cover from behind those rocks with Bessy." Rico adds, moving towards the rocks she had nodded at as speaking.

Henrietta glances at the handful of mercenaries standing guard inside the landing pads defensive barricades "Can I have one of your grenades Jayne?" The merc doesn't reply verbally, simply tossing a pair of them at the cyborg after hoisting himself up into a tree. Moments later, the mercenary is just ahead of Rico at the edge of the treeline and about 10 yards to her right.

"Grenade in 3... 2..." Rico whispers into the small mic for the in-ear radio set every crewmember was wearing, trailing off just before she pulls the trigger on the small launcher she had with her. With a hollow '_thwump_', barely audible over the sounds of the rainforest, _Serenities_ assault on the fort begins.

As the grenade detonates just above and in front of the forward most concrete barrier surrounding the pad proper, Henrietta rushes from the treeline, P90 blazing away, just behind her are Victor, Mal and Triella; the the tanned cyborg holding her fire for when the shotgun will have greater effect. The first mercenary to react is felled by a single staccato shot from Veera, and moments later the thunderous rattle of Bessy forces the rest of the other group of looters rearguard to take cover.

Beset by sniper fire from their right, and heavy machinegun fire from their left, the remaining five mercenaries do not notice Sandro River and Petra moving to follow the first four out from the treeline. Nor do they notice Henrietta lobbing the first of her grenades deeper into the shielded landing pad than Rico's launcher could reach from her rearward position. The blast maims at least one of the opposing looters, and smokes two out despite the constant 7.62x51mm rain that was descending upon them. One is felled in a hail of .45 handgun fire, and the second thrown from his feet by 12 gauge buckshot. Another loud crack, and a mercenary falls from a window overlooking the landing pad as Henrietta vaults the low barricade, her left hand planted on the concrete, her right spraying fire from her P90. "Petra, the window!" Sandro shouts over the now constant rattle of gunfire as the remaining guards attempt to deal with not only Henrietta, but now Triella, Mal and Victor in their midst.

One of the looters has the distinct pleasure of having his mind boggled by the absurdity of an ax wheeling through the air towards his forehead for a moment, hot on the equally confounding tail of the baffling experience of barely escaping a gun-toting pre-teen girl mercilessly slaughtering his crewmates; before the ax mercifully connects, and the dress-clad source of the absurdity continues past him to begin vaulting up the side of the fort behind the red-headed cyborg, the sound of gunfire preceding, and silence following them as they move deeper into the building. "Petra, River, that level is mostly offices, clear the hallway your in then move down to rendezvous with us." Hillshire orders over the radio.

With a final crack, the firefight outside the fort is ended "Pads clear." Henrietta announces as she steps over the body she had maimed with her initial grenade and reloads her weapon.

"Jayne, Rico?" Mal asks over the radio before reloading his own weapon, and suppresses a shudder at the contrast between the brutality the tiny girl before him had unleashed upon nearly half a dozen men, and the nice, if depressed girl he had grown to know over the past few weeks. Rico's detached uncaring coldness on Whitefall had been one thing, but this reminded the former sergeant far to much of the actions of a soldier looking to die in a firefight rather than a seasoned, sane veteran in a childs body. And that, was something he had already seen more of than he ever wanted too.

"Already behind you." Rico answers, not using the radio and breaking off Mal's dark reminiscing and worried planning for a conversation he would have to have after the job was done as he spins around to address the young blonde.

"Well, get some good cover, I expect significant heat ta be bearin down on this pad again before long." He orders the cyborg, a crooked, thin half-grin gracing her now smudged face.

"Real soon to be precise cap'n. I just spotted four men break onto the trail we blazed." Jayne amends as he takes up a position next to Rico behind one of the barriers and reloads his own weapon.

"Weapons?" the cyborg prompts.

"Hand cannons and a hunting rifle... cheap thugs looking to make it big, but I suspect more like'em to be hot on their heels. Job's got a lucrative 'nuff payoff to attract plenty like them." Jayne answers, disgust in his voice.

Mal shakes his head "Case you hadn't noticed, we aint precisely bigtime ourselves. Them that fit that title are already inside."

"And times wasting Cap, lets move before they get all of our goods!" Triella barks over the radio, garnering a shrug from the captain, and snickers from Jayne and Rico as the man turns to follow his crew into the building.

"Still smaller fish than us..." Rico mumbles as she works the action on her own weapon, and turns her attention downrange. For a few minutes, there is silence. Eventually a single crack signifies the next groups play on the fort. With a sharp, equally loud retort, Jayne replies and ends the small band of thieves marksman.

However, before the rest of the group can reach Rico's effective range, or make the mistake of giving Jayne a shot, a brief cacophony of gunshots accented by the lightshow of a firefight in the dark signals their demise "Ruttin hell, that didnt take long. See anything?"

"Gout of flame, probably a flamethrower." Rico answers levelly and calmly.

Jaynes face faults as he attempts to clarify "Yer jokin', right?"

"We're on a mission, why would I do that?" Is Rico's calm, almost absent minded reply.

"Gao yang zhong de gu yang" Jayne curses, looking back downrange, his face now drawn in concentration "How the ruttin hell did a pack of thieves get one of them?"

Rico shrugs in dismissal "Stole it. I'll blast the tank before they get it in range anyhow, so it doesnt matter really." Jayne shrugs in reply, and settles back into his cover, ready for the next group of looters to break the treeline.

****Broken****

Henrietta continues to work her way down the emergency lit hallway briskly, purposefully and almost silently. Able to simply ignore her current situation outside of the mission and just preform as she had been trained to, grateful for the escape. Door to door, flashlight at the front of her P90's forward grip illuminating where the dull lights do not reach, drawing habitual reassurance from the group of cyborgs and adults following behind her she presses on. The door behind her slams into the wall of the room beyond, and moments later Trielas even, calm voice announces "Clear."

Henrietta turns, plants her sore, cramped foot in the door now before her, and steps into the room as the door slaps into the wall. She glances right, then left, light illuminating the poorly lit, abandoned lab as Triela moves up to the next door, covered by the two adults, River and Petra watching down the hallway "Clear" the chestnut haired cyborg announces before backing out of the room and turning to advance towards the second to last door before the intersection that Triela and River would be splitting off at.

"Six others headed back to us. Indignant and angry... all violence and greed." River quips, her eyes worryingly far away and removed as the readers loose grip on her bloody reaver ax, and freshly acquired boxy micro SMG, a clear, albeit distant descendant of the micro uzi to Henriettas mind; tightens.

Treilas stride remains steady, even as the odd, airy statement breaks Henrietta and Hillshires strides for a moment until the eldest remaining cyborg announces in a whisper over the radio "Bandits spotted, assault rifles and body armor, looks freshly looted." before ducking back inside the clearly clear room she had just checked moments before.

"Try ta keep the armor in tact then, its our pay-off." Mal orders stepping into the room Henrietta had just cleared, stacking the wall behind her, Sandro just behind him.

"Wheres River?" Henrietta asks worriedly, knowing the reader had been closer to the empty lab she was in than the room Triela just cleared.

"Not with us." Victor replies over the radio.

With an airy giggle the reader interjects "Theres a sprinkler system."

"Didnt they see you jump... how does that help even?" Triela replies, confusion lacing her voice through the radio.

"Was standing behind Hillshire, they didn't see me." River replies plainly.

Henrietta can almost hear the frustrated huff that must have come before her reply of "That still doesnt explain how-"

"Some things better left unanswered Tri. Riv, how much longer we got?" Mal cuts in, his voice still all business, unlike the rest of his crew... and the add-on's that seem to be being negatively affected by them.

"Stopped advancing when we did, being cautions... their going to hide in the abandoned labs like we are soon." River answers. "Going to take all day."

"Gorramit we cant be dealing with this kind of gou-shi, not on a job like this. Anyone have any grenades? Wheres Jayne when I need him..." Mal all but barks out over the radio.

Henrietta tilts her body and head to look behind her and up at Mal "Jayne did give me two Captain..."

Mal nods, before replying "Then here's the plan, your gonna throw it behind them, if it gets'em that's shiny, if not River opens fire and the rest of us step out to finish the job and keep moving. Vics plans still good, split-off isn't that far off from here."

Henrietta nods, before turning back to the door and quietly counting down "Three... Two... One..." before peeking around the door to hurl the live grenade. The tiny, matte black sphere arcs towards its target just behind where the rival looters would be in two steps in silence, punctuated at the last moment by a loud curse and the sound of men scrambling. Then, the staccato stutter of Rivers new weapon silences all other sound for a moment, before the grenades detonating drowns out all other sound with a deafening roar. Not even a moment later, as Henrietta is finally getting her back pressed against the wall she had started at, Mal is leaning over her, gun leveled already, and barking out its own addition to the demented tune of battle that had just been initiated. As Mal steps past the cyborg, his gun and Hillshires roaring in chorus Rivers smaller weapons rolling argument again issues forth as unanswered as the handguns for a moment before the low thrumming rumble of the few remaining assault rifles finally begin to return fire.

In a low crouch Henrietta steps around the corner as Sandro confidently steps out into the hallway beside her, the blonde man flanking Mal to his left and stepping to the center of the hallway. With a swift, controlled burst Henrietta all but obliterates a diving looters head before he can reach the safety of a side room as River drops down from the ceiling. "Two made it to the left room" she announces as Triela and Petra follow Victor out of their own temporary hiding place.

"Princess, cover me." Petra calls out as she moves ahead to the last door on that side of the hallway before the team would again split. The pair of cyborgs clears the penultimate room before the marker with a thunderous roar preceded and followed by the even coughing of a machine pistol Henrietta ensures the status of the other three fallen looters she had not felled herself with twitches of her trigger finger at point blank range.

Again, silence reigns for a moment before Triela, and then Henrietta announce "Clear"

"Tri, Riv, stick to the plan, and keep in radio contact, cant afford any mistakes this point out." Mal orders, striding confidently past the two empty rooms, handgun pointed to the ceiling as he moves beyond the last major intersection before the primary storeroom.

Hillshire catches up to the captain, his weapon held low, stance rigid her whispers into the captains ear "Keeping an eye on Henrietta? She seems a bit more... brutal, than I remember her." as the cyborg in question reloads, oblivious to the conversation taking place ahead of her.

"Yea, gorram creepifyin, but that's what we need right this moment to be honest, in over our heads Vic." the captain replies just as quietly.

Victor tilts his head almost imperceptibly as Petra and Henrietta move ahead to continue checking rooms before answering "I assumed that we weren't going any deeper than we could break the surface from when you took the job Captain."

Mal almost falters as he glances over to the other man before replying "A few more group nouns than I expected from a transient hire. Take it that means you plan on stayin on then?"

"Me and Triela, yes." is Hartmans curt reply.

Mal nods, once as Hillshire continues scanning the shadows, before replying "Work out the issue of pay after this jobs up then?"

"Seeing as we don't even know how much we make, and I haven't spent the time to ask the others what their makin', that's more than fine for me." Victor replies, not even pausing as Petra's Spectre M4 again makes its presence known.

"Then shut up an get back to paying attention to the job, we ain't done yet." Mal replies easily, stepping up to usher Henrietta back behind him, taking point effortlessly and definitively.

****Broken****

Triela and River stalk the halls of the still abandoned fort, now over halfway to the entrance by the blueprint. Both are tense, observant, and confident as they approach the last major junction "Going to be fighting soon." River quips just moments before the harsh retorts of gunshots, and the flashes that accompany them begin to illuminate the path before them.

"Still a bit freaky when you do things like that River." Triela replies nervously, as she flicks the safety off her shotgun, before tapping the talk button on her radio and announcing "Contacts at the last junction, three sided fight from the look of it, dont ask how they didnt notice each other yet." as the pair ducks into a side room.

"Didnt have blueprints, entered at different times, and now all found their way back here at once." River explains in an absent minded voice as a few stray rounds ping off the wall near the pairs hiding spot.

"Jobs the same for you two, clear it and get to the main entrance. Cant have any others getting' at us while we move the goods." Mal answers calmly, the sound of gunfire audible on his end of the radio as well.

Triela heaves a sigh "Easier said than done, there's only two of us, and each of the other crews have at least four."

"Going to notice us soon." River warns in a hushed voice, easily keeping pace with the rapid, clipped nature of the conversation taking place on the radio.

Victors calm voice cuts off what was swiftly escalating to an argument between Triela and Mal filling the gap on the radio channel with "Triela, I considered this eventuality when I chose you and River for your part in the job. You can handle it, so do it. We don't have time for hesitating, and I trust you to preform."

Triela simply double-clicks the talk button on her radio, before turning to River and ordering "Take the group that's straight across from us first, then you go right and I'll clean up to the left."

River nods in agreement as she asks "On three?" Triela nods, River delivers the three count, and the duo springs into action. A spray of fire from Rivers smg downs the remaining two combatants directly baring the path for the girls to advance, though, the pained groans tell that at least one is still alive, or at least dying slowly. Triela , exiting the room directly behind River sprints for the hallway she had volunteered to clear, firing off a trio of blasts from her M1897. The first spray of buckshot tears into the only man outside cover, shredding most of the upper left quadrant of his torso. The second and third blasts tear the door that the two surviving teammates of the now dead looter had been using as cover from its hinges. In the brief silence following Trielas shotgun blasts, the meaty thwack of an ax impacting flesh followed by pained gurgling cut short by a burst of 9x19mm fire.

The debris from Trielas destruction of the door her targets had been hiding behind clears to reveal one man dazed and clutching his face, and the second moaning, trapped under the remains of the door, his leg at an impossible angle from his body. Without breaking stride or turning to check on River, she advances on the two stunned bandits. A hip-fired blast from her shotgun finishes off the stunned man, before she shifts the grip to the barrel of her gun, then slamming the butt of it into the top of the ruined door, further pinning the trapped man down. She then proceeds to kick the handgun he had been reaching for away from his free arm, then plants her foot into the side of his jaw, and pushing until his neck breaks. "Clear" River announces from behind the blond cyborg.

"Same." Triela answers, before turning around to look at her partner. Triela cocks an eyebrow and deadpans "Wow, you really went all out." As she looks over the now disheveled River, blood dripping from her axe, and spattered on her smg, the three broken bodies of her targets laying about her feet.

"Only way to be sure we would both survive." River answers plainly, as she moves to make her way back to the main hallway.

Triela just shrugs, before raising a hand to her mic "Junctions clear, holding here."

Hartmann can be heard sighing over the radio "No Triela, you have to go all the way to the entrance. Have to check the forward armory, and thats the only choke-point two can hold reliably."

"So you want us to get flanked then?" Triela crossly shoots back crossly.

"Bi-zu!" Mal barks over the radio "Riv, any other looters split off down the side hallways?"

"Others may, but none have." She replies, twirling her ax in her hand idly.

"Then keep to the plan, Reader says your clear, dong-ma?" Mal finishes.

Triela just double-clicks her radios talk button and advances, still grumbling and casting glances at the two hallways. After a few minutes of silent walking, Mal again interjects "Jayne, Rico, status?"

The radio goes live, but at first, only gunfire can be heard, before Jaynes voice, sounding a bit distant exclaims "Whadaya mean jammed? Thought you said it was a reliable gun!" there is a brief pause before he adds "Then unjam the ruttin thing or switch to the launcher!" Then, his voice gets louder, as he is speaking into the mic "Gettin hairy out here Mal. Could use another gunhand."

"We're almost to the storeroom, once we have it secured, I'll move to help out." Victor answers calmly, the sound of gunshots audible over his line as well. Triela is about to add her own opinion to the conversation, but a flash of movement grabs her attention, and with the roar of her shotgun, she fells the source of it, and invites a hail of return fire from the downed looters companions.

As Triela and River dive for cover in the cluttered hallway, Jaynes voice replies "Real nice ta know help is comin eventually. Might still be kickin by the time then rolls 'round."

In the background, Rico's voice can be heard exclaiming "Got it!" before the sound of her MG3 overpowers almost all other background noises.

"Not to sound needy or anything, but mind sharin why you two of all folk need help with violence?" Mal asks over the radio as River launches herself over the upturned steel crate she had been hiding behind, vaults off the wall, and crashes into the group the pair headed towards the main entrance had just encountered.

Rivers antics not only half the forces now arrayed before Treila, but allows the cyborg to rise from her own cover. As the tan cyborg does so, River vaults up to the ceiling mounted sprinkler, Jayne replies "More'n a few of the petty thiefs tryin fer this job decided to team up. Aint a issue a skill, its numbers." as Triela empties the last few shots in her shotguns magazine into the remaining looters trying to push deeper into the supposedly abandoned fort.

River drops back down from the ceiling, her ax silencing the only live opposing looter remaining as Triela reloads her shotgun and announces "Forward armory and main entrance in sight. Doesnt look promising." getting only a double click of someones radio for a response... most likely from the captain.

The pair advances warily into the aforementioned armory uncontested. The room is a mess of blast marks and bullet holes, corpses scattered liberally throughout the decent sized room, blood staining the empty shelves, gunracks and bins to match the plethora of fallen criminals. "Forward armories been hit, nothing to take left." River announces almost boredly over the radio.

Triela moves off to the main entrance, more a blasted, twisted crater than a door now, and barely is able to hear "Hadun's are getting our loot! Aint not lettin them backbirths steal our coin, git'em boys!" from another advancing mob of streetdwelling scum that had managed to steal outright, or steal enough cash to buy a crap shuttle to get here charges the blasted entrance.

Triela rolls her eyes and pulls an assault rifle from the clammy hands of one of their dead rivals "Dumb bastards dont know they've been beat to the punch" she mutters before shouting "Riv! We got company headed this way promptly!"

"Hold tight girls, we're only a small span from the firefight to get to the big prize." Victor replies a bit too quickly over the radio.

"Oh, they should hold tight? What about us over here on the ragedy?" Rico shoots over the radio.

Petra jumps on the radio long enough to sigh and reply "Hillshire will be on his way with plenty of new toys and that extra body you need so bad soon enough Rico."

"Should I get _Serenity_ moving then?" Inara asks almost as soon as Petra falls silent.

Shortly after, Kaylees voice cuts in "An take my girl over to get shot all to pieces? Absolutely not!" the thrum of _Serenities_ engine loud in the background.

"Aint gonna have a choice Kaylee." Mal replies evenly "Pad aint gonna be clear till tomorrow afternoon most probably. 'Sides, payoff'll be good 'nuff to patch any holes up. None of these petty thiefs can afford anything big enough to hurt our girl serious."

Kaylee simply huffs over the radio for in response.

****Broken****

"Half a dozen outside the main armory and storage room." Petra announces, ducking back behind the last corner before the crews target.

Mal turns back to face the group to ask "Anything we should be feeling particularly worried about on'em?"

Petra shrugs "Guns a gun? All of'em are armed and armored better than we are currently. Mostly loading up pallets of crates. Have a decent hover-jack to move the goods on."

Victor grins a bit "French Benefits are a beautiful thing."

Mal shakes his head, grinning some himself "I'll ask what that means later. 'Etta-" The groups youngest cyborg takes the mention of her name as a command, and launches herself into the corridor, P90 blazing away "Ah gorramit, everyone move! Cover Henrietta!" before stepping around the corner himself, and firing into the now four strong guard detail. Felling another of them as the chestnut haired cyborg storms past the confused trio.

The two tear-marks on Henriettas arm begin to bleed, as a third appears on her calf, shredding the tights she had been wearing as it does so, and Victor reduces the remaining guards number to two. "She's really lost it this time" Petra deadpans as she takes down the second to last guard.

"She has a purpose behind it at least. Not like when she got over-protective of Jose and just killed everything in sight." Sandro chimes in as he steps around the corner to fell the last of the rearguard.

Stepping into the storeroom proper behind the berserk cyborg before him, Mal barks out "Bi-Zu!" as he fells the few men that had been loading crates that Henrietta missed. "Vic, check on 'Etta, Petra, Sandro, make sure we're clear."

Hillshire finds Henrietta in a sorry state to say the least, hunched over, hyperventilating, shaking, eyes moist, though bereft of tears. "Are... are you okay Henrietta?" he struggles out as the others mill about starting to secure the loot in a manner that makes more sense to them.

"I... I'm, yes... no." she replies as she shakily steadies herself. She lurches a few times, coming within a hairsbredth of dry-heaving "This is just the first time since I woke up that I did something like this and..."

"Simon has been working on counteracting your conditioning; part of which makes you accepting of going out and killing." Victor finishes as the cyborg trails off to actually begin dry-heaving.

She shakes her head "No, I... I just never really went out on missions for Italy, it was for Jose, to protect him is what made it worth it, to kill."

Victor, for his part, is fully and completely aware of what the cyborg slowly pulling herself back into something resembling normal on a terrible day needs to hear, he simply does not know how to express it. "Simon will need to look at you, make sure its nothing serious." He eventually forces out after a drawn out, awkward silence, kicking himself at every word, knowing he was botching it horribly. Triela would have been able to read in his body language and tone just how concerned he was. Triela would be able to accept that as more than enough, and not hold his mild social ineptitude against him beyond some light teasing down the line. Triela, for all of her strong points that Victor felt only he was privy to, and the rest thrown in to boot, was not the cyborg on the verge of a catastrophic psychological breakdown, or even in the same room right now, let alone the cyborg he is speaking with.

Henriettas face goes through a strange series of contortions, all of them subtle expressions of different emotions, all unknown by sight to the former SWA handler, before it sets into a facade of calm, replies with a simple nod and a "Mmm"

Mal approaches Victor as he walks away from the brunette, now busying herself by helping to load the hover-jack "She's good?"

"As much as can be expected, doc will need to look at her though." the German replies levelly "She's in a bad way."

The captian nods "Figured as much, aint my first rodeo."

"You still have those?" victor asks, mind boggling a bit.

The captain shrugs "More than most border worlds rely on livestock fer economy, Hell, I grew up on a ranch. Pro circuit cowboys pride'mselves mighty big on the age of their sport." before he pauses to turn to look at Victor "Arent you supposed to be on your way to bail out our most violent duo? 'Nara's gonna need at least a halfway calm pad to set _Serenity_ down on."

Victor shrugs, before grabbing an assault rifle that bears more than a passing resemblance to Veera off of a rack, and a quartet of loaded magazines to go with it and replying "On my way captain." with a nod.

****Broken****

Rico's focus is solely downrange as she picks out actual threats among what is now a seething mass of belligerents to the untrained eye. To Rico, however, it is a simple puzzle; two groups shouting back and forth, negotiating terms of alliance... nothing to worry about yet. A different group, these men already telegraphing their betrayal now that they are within striking distance of the landing pad, having cut through the veritable horde of gutter-dwelling scum looking to cash in; not a threat. The group immediately to their right however, the ones that had cut through three other impromptu alliances or larger gangs, they warranted a long burst from Bessy, that chained over to the first group she had checked after unjamming her MG3 as they move from cover in an attempt to take the pad.

At first, the only other noise save her weapon firing near her are small arms pinging off the concrete barrier she is hiding behind are the reassuring cracks of Veera picking off the survivors of her own gunfire. Then, a second weapons baas chatter drowns out Jaynes favorites' staccato emissions. A tiny, fatalistic voice in the back of her head resignedly sighs out 'so this is it then'. Then Hillshires voice cuts in "Sorry about the delay, issues with the plan."

"Bout ruttin time!" Jayne shouts over his shoulder as Victor slams into the concrete barrier to Rico's left, making her the center of their defensive position. "an whadaya mean by 'problem' Vic?"

The German shrugs as he returns to pouring fire into the smaller groups Rico was letting be to conserve ammunition as he replies "Nothing that will slow down our getting out of here. Just personal issues."

Jayne growls as he rolls fully behind cover to reload Veera "Whose?" he asks glancing over and lighting up "Callahan Automatic... same base Veera came from." he shifts back up to open fire, mentally ticking down how many more seconds Rico can fire before having to reload as he adds "Veera's the DMR variant of course."

Rico slides back down behind her cover, avoiding a concentrated burst of fire from beyond the blackened, shredded treeline as Mal's voice cuts in over the radio "First loads ready, 'Nara, you on your way?"

"Pad aint clear yet." Rico quips as she works to reload her weapon.

"Get. It. Clear." Mal shoots back all business.

"Liftoff... should be at the fort by the time you get to the landing pad exit." Inara interjects, her nerves clearly and audibly frayed over the radio.

Rico grunts, sets Bessy down and orders "cover me." as she stands up to her full height and fires the grenade launcher Jayne had given her, not ducking back down below the barricade as she slides another grenade in and fires it, shifting her aim slightly to the right. Victor and Jayne scramble to obey as Rico continues repeating the action, standing tall above her cover firing again and again. "Pads clear." she radios, firing her last grenade, its impact not splintering wood, but felling a tree as she turns and begins to sink back down into cover, a bullet rips into her right shoulder, and the cyborg screams out "Da xiang bao zha shi de la du zi!"

"Gorramit Rico! Why in the san hell did you go an do that!?" Jayne demands, slinking back down to reload again as Hillshire keeps the suppressing fire on the now considerably quieter forest up as small fires begin to start near the three-quarter-dozen blast marks.

"No exit wound... that really hurts though." Rico muses as she struggles to reload Bessy, the empty drum magazine already ejected, but affixing a new one one-armed proving difficult.

"Cyborg conditioning. Job, mission, same thing. Simon is trying his best, but its deep in her head." Hillshire replies for the wincing cyborg, Jaynes gaze still locked on her "Now would you please support me here Cobb, she'll probably heal up better than us even without replacing the arm like the SWA doctors would. Bullet didnt even go through and through." Hillshire barks, chips of concrete scraping and cutting up his face as he braces against the barrier and returns fire from the now recovered opposing looters.

"Making my final approach" Inara announces over the radio, as the reassuring thrumm of _Serenitys _engine becomes audible over the roar of gunfire playing the demented symphony of battle around the trio of crewmembers holding the landing pad.

"He's right, I'm fine... bullet just feels weird in my shoulder... how did the others live with this so often?" Rico replies as the solid 'clack' of Bessy being reloaded joins the din for a brief moment.

Grunting, Jayne slams his chest into his chewed up piece of cover and begins picking away at stragglers and high priority targets as his home sets down behind him "Conditioning or not, Crew or not, getting a hole shot in ya for a stupid reason aint' acceptable Tiny. Coulda cleared the pad in time fer 'Nara ta land in much better ways."

"It worked, and its what I know" Rico answers calmly, grimacing more than a little bit as she adds her own gunfire to the suppression salvo. Wincing with every kick of her light machine gun.

****Broken****

Four trips, fifteen minutes for each trip both ways, and Triela and River were still valiantly struggling to hold the main entrance. The assault rifle Triela had picked up was discarded on the ground, all of the ammunition she had been able to scrounge for the gun spent half an hour ago. River still held her micro smg, but it was just as dry, much like the bandoliers Triela was wearing. "Almost done out there, we're getting overrun here!" she shouts over the radio as she finishes reloading, leaving a paltry 12 shells on her belt, 5 in her primary weapons magazine, and one chambered.

"Last load just left for the ship, I'm on my way to help you girls out." Mal answers tersely.

Triela nods across the hallway at River, and the reader springs from the room she had been waiting in and burys her ax in the chest of the point man of the next group to brave the hallway the two girls were still holding, despite having been forced back from the entrance when the assault rifle and smg had run dry. Triela steps out and with a pair of well placed shots, downs three more looters. River tears her ax out from the chest of the dying man before her, and leaps ahead to decapitate the one that had only been hit in the leg. "Wont last much longer at this rate." River warns as she plants her foot into the shoulder of a man about to shoot Triela. The man is smart enough to roll with the hit, but does not realize the repercussions of his choice until after the second to last man in his group is felled by the bullet that had been meant for Triela.

"Small wonder." Triela deadpans, working the pump on her shotgun "Send the crew with the shortest range weapons we have to watch a door, and we get overrun. Never would have guessed in a million years that that would have happened."

River shrugs and returs to the room she had been using as cover as Triela smashes the butt of her shotgun into the now kneeling, mortified mans face "Stow it Tri, dont have time for complaining." Mal orders as he joins the tan cyborg in the room she was once again using as cover.

"Next group just got through the hole actually." River shouts across the hallway.

"Hole?" Mal asks, confused.

Triela shrugs "Some idiots brought a rocket launcher with them... main entrance's gone.

As Mal's mind tries to work out the logic to bringing a rocket launcher to a heist, Sandro's voice crackles over the radio "Landing pad in sight, less than five until we're ready for liftoff."

The captain nods, before announcing "Clear this group then we get out, dong ma?" the two girls nod an affirmative.

"Still fighting outside, even though there's nothing left inside." River quips airily.

"Their problem, not ours." Mal replies tersely, before stepping out from cover and unloading his handgun into the oncoming looters. Triela is just behind him, and follows suit, the pair making short work of the tired, inattentive and ill-prepared looters. After he and Triela reload, he glances over to River "Any bullets left for that piece Riv?" she shakes her head negative "Then go, Triela and I will keep us covered in case the next group catches up."

As the reader runs back down the hallway towards _Serenity_, Mal and Triela begin falling back at a more measured pace, waiting for the next group to either catch them or not. The muffled crackling of a radio being accidentally switched to 'talk' mode gives them both cause to pause. Doubly so when the mic pics up Rico shouting "Grenade!" followed by the sounds of running.

After too long of a pause, Mal goes to ask what the status of the rest of the crew is, but Jaynes voice beats him too it "Vics down! Doc get your ass out here!"

* * *

><p>Da xiang bao zha shi de la du zi: Explosive elephant diarrhea<p> 


	10. Chapter 10

A/N: Sorry about the wait, I had intended for this to be a christmas or new years update, heh. A big thank you to all f you who are following and or have favorited this fic, and special thanks to:

RC1212: Glad to hear you liked the fight scenes, and yea, mandarin curses are fun, heh

VizeerLord: Here ya go, heh

Legion Plateado: thanks, sometimes it takes a few takes to get the blend to work though...

El Conservatore: Yea, the fight scenes in 9 did kinda dominate it... I didnt know just how much that would up the pacing until I realized that I was writing three seperate fights at once. And grammar can be my achiles heel.

crimsonkatana: yea, not much had been happening, but I think I'm pretty solidly back on the horse

As usual, I own neither Gunslinger Girl or Firefly... hell I dont even own the roof over my head, its being rented...

* * *

><p>As the cargo bay door closes, Henrietta finds her way back into the ship blocked by the captain "We need to talk 'Etta." the stone-faced captain states.<p>

Henrietta tries to move around the captain half-heartedly, but is halted by his gaze "About what, captain."

"You, tryin to get your fool self killed." Mal answers, gaze remaining cold and unblinking as Henrietta begins to fidget.

The silence hangs for nearly a minute, the commotion at the infirmary the only noise other than the low thrumming of the engines and stray bullets still pinging off the hull. Henrietta breaks the silence "We should go check on-"

"Not. Yet." Mal cuts her off, still towering over the slight girl "Tell me why it is you think your own life ending would be a good thing."

The cyborg takes a step back, mere inches now separating her from the bulkhead "I... I dont."

Mal frowns, turning to pace away from the cyborg in frustration "Thats a gorram lie Henrietta, and we both know it."

Again, a pregnant silence fills the air between them until Henrietta begins to speak "I-"

"Next words outa your mouth best be truth." Mal cuts her off, his voice still deadly serious. "And before you speak, remind yourself that I kept on serving the Independents long after the call to lay down arms went out."

The cyborgs face shifts to pensiveness, before uncertainty, and finally, fear "I... I dont want to die but, but I dont have a reason left to go on."

Mal scoffs "Dont have a reason? I seen men made'a softer stuff than you carry on for less than what you got child. Now, Try. Again." the captain turns around and takes a few steps away from the young cyborg in disgust.

"I... I'm alive, but-"

Mal wheels around to glare at Henrietta again, silencing her "Dont give me that gou'shi. You have a whole mess'a sisters lookin out for you, an uncle worries over all'a you like he's your father, and a pretty impressive job piloting a ship thats doin' more than a bit good."

Henrietta takes another step back "Job? Pilot? But... I, I dont think I can-"

Mal shakes his head "Then dont. Just fly my boat, and keep'er safe when the rest of us is workin jobs. And before you start goin on about how you aint that good a pilot, just quit before you begin, cuz I've seen you fly _Serenity_ when Riv lets ya, and your nearly as good as her'n'she pulled what she knows from the head of the best pilot of his generation."

Shaking like autumns last leaf, Henrietta asks "Then why not just have River keep flying?"

"Because" Mal retorts "she aint always the sanest, and a feng'le pilot gets the whole crew killed. So I cant have you flyin off the gorram handle and risking finding the bullet with your name written on it anymore, Dong-ma?"

Again, silence takes hold of the cargo bay before Henrietta steps forward from the back wall "Sir, I-"

"Dont have to stay the killer the meds were makin' you into to fly my boat; and you wont be the first crew I had wouldnt take a life" Mal cuts her off "and thats more than shiny as afar as I'm concerned. Those meds brought out a side of you stays hidden inside most folks their entire lifes the way I figure it. Leave it buried good'n'deep where it belongs."

Silence again falls over the cargo bay, until the ship begins to shake and rumble loudly as it begins to lift off, "I should go see how Triela's doing." the cyborg replies when the roar dulls enough for conversation.

"No, your going to the cockpit. Our Albatross's is always a bit off after workin a job comes to violence." Mal replies as they begin to make for the stairs up and out of the cargo bay.

Henreittas face, which had slowly been shifting back to a calm mask of confidence begins to falter "But-"

"Trust me 'Etta. Been past the door she's sittin right in front of, liable to say things she'll regret currently." Mal replies tersely, almost angrily as the reach the catwalk.

Henrietta stops and turns to face the captain "But Rico is-"

"Made'a much tougher stuff than you emotionally. Not liable to hold it against Tri. Cant have one of my newest gunhands and my pilot at each others throats over words said but not meant." the captain shoots back, not breaking stride, even as the ship ceases its lurching as it breaches the atmosphere.

"But sir, I-" Henreitta pauses as they reach the intersection where she would have to turn to get to the bridge and not the infirmary.

Mal looks back at the chestnut haired cyborg, cocking a grin "Take it this means you're accepting my job offer then?" the cyborg pouts, before turning to make for the cockpit.

She enters what is to be her domain now in silence, River is hugging her knees to her chest in the co-pilots seat, idly minding the instruments of the ship as it drifts through space. Before Henrietta can get to the pilots seat River turns and quietly announces "You only ever killed for him anyways. No reason to force it now." The cyborg merely nods, before dropping into the pilots seat. After a few minutes River stands and walks from the cockpit, Henrietta nearly lasts three minutes more before she starts vomiting into the trash bin.

****Broken****

Everything had been a blur since she heard Jaynes announcement over the radio. She was aware of Rico resting against the wall next to her. Part of her knew that the younger cyborg was the image of peaceful confidence next to her own tense, balled up form. She had taken note of Jayne ceasing his pacing to lean up against the wall when the captain had returned from closing up the ship for takeoff, Jayne had whispered something into his ear, and taken up a position against the wall next to Mal. The captain...

****Broken****

Triela wheeled about to sprint after Hillshire, only to find an arm barring her way "You have two choices Triella" The captain barks at her, his left arm blocking her path, his right sending shots down the hallway to cover their retreat. "Run off like you think you want to, stand very worried-like by Vic while the doc works on him, and then die with the rest of us because I couldn't keep the other looters at bay alone long enough for _Serenity_ to get off the ground." More shots sent back down the hallway both as punctuation and to do their job. "Or, you trust that the same doctor who already more'n doubled your life expectancy 'long with the rest of the cyborgs'n'is talkin even longer can save Vic from a few bullet wounds." Not trusting herself with words, Triela fires off a few rounds down the hallway, allowing Mal to fall back, continuing their staggered retreat.

****Broken****

Inara walks up to the door of the infirmary to stand with the others "Who is it?"

Jayne tilts his head away from the door to glance at the companion "Vic took three in the gut, an Rico took one in the back of the shoulder."

Inara nods, before sitting down next to Triela, completely nonplussed by the distraught cyborgs lack of greeting. "Three bullets? They must be larger caliber if Simon swallowed his pride enough to let River help him."

"Not helping ge-ge." River announces as she joins the group and Triela pales a bit more.

Inara glances up to the distant looking reader to ask "Then who-"

"Kaylee" Jayne cuts her off, glancing to the infirmary again himself.

****Broken****

Jayne had all but carried the staggering, bleeding German all the way from the ships ramp to the infirmary. Triela could tell that much just by looking at the mercenary as she catches up with him in the ship. She moves to take her handler from him, but is stiff-armed back as the mercenary carries him through the door into the infirmary. Simon, who had been prevented from properly looking at Victors wound as he had been moved from the battle still going on outside the ship to the infirmary runs his hand through his hair, before pulling Jayne off to the side. Triela is vaguely aware of the words being traded as she moves in worriedly to wait at her handlers side. "Rifles for sure" ... "military grade" ... "different guns" the whispers are no where near quiet enough to keep her from catching at least some of what they are talking about. She moves in to squeeze her handlers unresponsive, slowly cooling hand.

"KAYLEE! GET DOWN TO THE INFIRMARY NOW!" Simon bellows out the door.

Simon then moves over to Hillshires side. First he observes from the side opposite Triela, before, he begins circling the mans prone form in silence. He makes a shooing motion as he approaches the spot Triela is rooted to, and motions to Jayne when the distraught cyborg does not move. At first he had been excitable and panicky when crew were brought to him wounded, but the doctor had long ago settled into his job, and could diagnose his friends with the same calm detachment of any veteran trauma surgeon now. As Jayne ushers Triela from the room as gently as he can Kaylee enters "Simon, what-"

"Victors been shot, and I need a second set of hands if I'm going to save him. Set that machines first dial to maximum, then run the 'emergency sequence' button above it twice." he orders, inclining his head to the small box with _SteriStar _emblazoned on its top. "It has a sensor inside the hand-holes so you shouldn't miss any of the scrub. After that key the second dial to latex and hit the 'nurse' button."

Kaylee freezes in the doorway, doing an excellent impression of a deer caught in the headlights "Why me Simon, isn't River-"

"Piloting the ship. You've helped me clean the infirmary up enough to know what the tools are and where they are kept." Simon cuts her off, tearing the wounded mans shirt off to allow better view and access. Silently, the surgeon thanks Jayne for taking his knife to the Germans vest to get it off him. Kaylee bites her lip, then nods and makes her way to the sterilizer.

****Broken****

It had been hours since the infirmary's door had closed the rest of the crew out. The only person not present was Henrietta, who was still stuck minding the helm, as the trip from Greenleaf to the Li Shen Bazaar was a rather circuitous one in its early legs this time f the year. The door swishes open, and the quiet murmuring ceases as the doctor steps into the doorway "We'll know if he'll make it once the anesthetics wear off." he announces, years of medicad training allowing him to keep a calm, aloof demeanor as he delivers the news. Then, the mask breaks, and the surgeon just looks tired and worried as he asks "Anyone else take a bullet?"

Rico nods, grimacing as she pushes off of the wall "Right shoulder-blade. No exit wound."

Simon pinches the bridge of his nose and sighs, before half-shouting into the infirmary "Kaylee, I need the imager, a fresh scalpel and the full tweezer set. Make sure the 250mm's are clean."

"The big ones?" the mechanic asks, fatigue heavy on her voice. Simon nods as he follows the cyborg into his infirmary.

Simon flips a lever on one of the chairs, then twists the chairs high back and removes it. He props it up against the wall and pulls a separate back in the same gray that resembles a massage bed out of one of the larger cupboards "You'll have to take your shirt off, Kaylee will help you." he orders, twisting the new chair back on and locking it into place almost drowning out the sounds of Kaylee helping the cyborg out of her shirt.

"Dont have to act tough hun, aint judging nobody." Kaylee coos as Simon turns around and moves to observe the cyborgs right shoulder, her face set into a grimace.

"No bruising on the right front of the shoulder," he observes to himself as the cyborg continues to cover herself as Simon goes around to observe the entrance wound, and mentally traces a line to her front. He grabs a clean probe from the tray still laying next to Hillshires unconscious, peaceful form and begins poking at where the exit wound should be. Working in a tight spiral, he continues outward until Rico winces when the probe touches her collarbone. He frowns and motions towards the chair. The now lightly blushing Rico nods and seats herself as Simon holds out his hand as he circles around behind her and orders "Imager."

After a few minutes of Simon frowning and pursing his lips as he searches about the wounded girls shoulder, Kaylee asks "How bad was she hit?"

Simon turns up to look at his girlfriend "The initial wound is minor." he starts "unfortunately it looks like it fragmented into at least four shards, and one of the larger ones then hit the collarbone and fragmented again. I count seven fragments total scattered vertically through her shoulder. Lowest shard is between the eighth and ninth ribs. Kaylee go into the left side of the cabinet I store meds in. Go to the bin marked CC and dated for last Tuesday, get me one of the vials marked 'LA' and the thickest gauge needle we have right now."

As the mechanic turned nurse goes off to get the requested items, Rico pensively asks "What did all that mean?"

Simon stifles a sigh and replies "The bullet turned to buckshot when it glanced your shoulder-blade. One of the shards made it more than halfway down your ribcage, so the removal is going to hurt. 'CC' is my abbreviation for your conditioning cocktail, the most recent iteration is from last Tuesday, and 'LA' stands for local anesthetic."

"I-"

Simon cuts the cyborgs protest off before she can fully form it "I dont care how high your pain tolerance is, this will be unpleasant enough with the anesthetic, and I did take an oath that is commonly cited as the source of the phrase 'first, do no harm' a few years ago." he accepts the vial and needle from Kaylee, draws a healthy dose from it, taps the tip, places a hand just above Ricos wound to steady her, and injects the painkiller.

****Broken****

An hour and a half later, and Simon is wiping the sweat from his brow, the needle he had stitched the now larger wound back shut with rolling on the tray. Rico's breaths are coming loud and ragged through her gritted teeth, and Kaylee is shaking her arms out, trying to combat the soreness of holding them all but perfectly still to keep the imager placed properly. "The tissue will scar, and it is going to be bigger than the entrance wounds scar would have been." he pauses and nods at Kaylee, who is hovering near the scrubber, clearly eager to have the sprayed on sterile latex gloves removed. "However, with all of the shards removed I can all but guarantee that you wont get an infection, have any lasting pain or loss of motion in the joint."

Rico reaches over to the table, collects her t-shirt and slides it over her head before turning and asking "Why will it scar though?"

Simon stands, shakes his hands out and moves to check Victors vitals "Because _Serenity_ doesnt have the facilities to reproduce the nanites that prevented scarring when you were still with the SWA, and even if we did, the fact that they relied heavily on the conditioning cocktail would make me wary to use them on you. Luck like yours isnt meant to be pushed Rico."

The cyborg nods, face still a bit tight, and asks "Any restrictions?"

Simon nods as he goes over to wash his hands, embracing Kaylee from behind as he does so "Try not to use the arm for two weeks. Overuse it and I WILL immobilize it for you. I'll check on it again when we're at Li Shen Bazaar."

Rico nods, and turns to leave the room, pausing as her way is blocked by Triela, and Kaylee asks "What sort of bullet was it anyways?"

Simon flexes a bit, trapping Kaylee in-between his arms as she tries to move away from the sink as he answers "Fourty-Five ACP I would assume. Made from a cheap brass alloy with a mutt magnum load behind it." the doctor replies.

Smirking, Kaylee teases "Been spending too much time around Jayne it sounds like."

Before the now blustering Simon can respond, Triela croaks out the first words since hearing that Hillshire has been shot "How long until he comes too?"

The room falls to silence for a few minutes, before Simon answers "Anesthetics will wear off in four hours about... but with how drained his body will be from its own work to heal the wounds, he may not be properly cognizant for a few days yet." Triela simply nods, before dropping into the chair Simon had vacated mere minutes ago.

****Broken****

It has been a week since the Greenleaf mission had resolved. Six days since Simon had altered his diagnoses to "Either Victor will regain full cognizance or he wont. Time will tell whether or not this is a coma."

It has been five days since Hillshire had woken up, mumbling and moaning incoherently, Triela had been ready with a glass of water and a bit of food, but had only been able to get the former past his lips before he returned to his comatose state.

Rico wanders into the infirmary, the ship still stuck in orbit around the massive space station that is the Li Shen Bazaar. Triela looks up from her blanket nest on the infirmarys more comfortable chair, her vigil unbroken "How is he?" the smaller, younger blonde asks her, her right arm swaying in its sling.

Triela raises an eyebrow at Rico, not having seen her between three days ago when Rico had last stopped by, and yesterday when Simon had stopped his sister and the younger cyborgs chasing and wrestling around the ship to put Rico in the sling. "Woke up again yesterday for a minute or two. Throats still too dry to talk, and the iv drip isn't nourishing enough for much motion."

"So... its not a coma then?" Rico prompts, as she leans against the doorjamb.

Triela sighs "He still hasnt come out of it..."

Rico grins a bit "But he's gonna make it, right?" Triela opens her mouth to respond, but Rico continues on talking "That means you can come to Li Shen Bazaar with Henrietta an Kaylee an me!"

"Why would I want to do that?" the older cyborg shoots back icily.

"Because its like a market, but in space! And it hasallsortsof different food, and people, and Kaylee even said she knows a place where their calling a dead mutated upsidedown cow fetus an alien and-"

"Again, why would I want to do that?" Triela cuts Rico off.

Rico's nearly radiant excitement damps down a bit as her head tilts off to the side, and her finger goes to the corner of her mouth as she thinks, before answering "Because its really exciting, and new, and-"

Triela pinches the bridge of her nose, and shifts her gaze back to her nearly comatose handler "Everything is exciting and new to you Rico. I'm sure we will be back here again, and I have more important things to worry about right now." The conversation clearly over, she allows the room to fall to silence, and does not take her gaze from Hillshire, thus, missing the crestfallen look on Ricos face as the smaller girl shuffles from the infirmary.

By the time she reaches the other two girls, most of the disappointment is gone from the blue jeans and burgundy 'Remington Arms 700th Anniversary' long sleeve t shirt. "She didnt wanna come." Rico announces.

Kaylee shrugs, and wraps an arm around Rico as the cyborg reaches the bottom of the cargo bays stairs "Her loss, we're gonna have a great time, us girls." The mechanics light blue jumper, white blouse and khaki capris a stark contrast to Rico's cloths.

"So, where are we going first?" Henrietta asks as she falls into step with the other two, dressed in a light grey dress Jose had purchased for her, and a dark pink jacket, with a kittens head snuggling a lighter pink heart on the back.

Kaylee releases the now blushing Rico and replies "Dunno, pretty hungry for food that wasnt dehydrated myself. How about you girls?" Rico shrugs, but Henrietta nods enthusiastically Kaylee grins "I know a decent place to eat then. A diner not too far from where we docked Simon took me too when all of us were still pretty broke from Miranda." Henrietta is almost immediately enamored with the place and starts asking questions, Rico just looks hungry and follows along.

****Broken****

Mal suppresses a sigh as Jayne and Sandro dismount the truck they had rented out from the crossdock service. He had hoped that it would be Victor or Triela along with Jayne and himself, but that wasnt in the cards with how the job itself went. The reason of course being that a lot of the men still claiming to be browncoats had sunk to little more than petty pirates and thugs so long after the war. The captain glances nervously around the massive 'reception' area of one of the largest no questions asked rentable dock complexes at the Li Shen Bazaar, almost all of it was given over to fortifications and weapon mounts. "Not many mounts being used" Sandro whispers as Mal steps out of the truck and moves to stand next to the blonde.

As the men manning the barricades, gun pits and checkpoints begin to filter out, Mals fears compound, as most of them look little better than thugs with brownish cloths, or, in the case of a few, cloths that were just dirty enough to pass for brown. "Not rightly sure I wanna..." Mal trails off as the leader walks in. Angular, almost avian face, with a high, aggressive widows peak? Check. Aristocratic bearing? Check. Trio of deep gouge-like scars that look like a tiger had slashed at his face from the right cheekbone to above his left eye and deep into his hair? Check. Dark brown eye-patch over the eye ruined by the same wound that gave him the scar? Check... looks like times were hard all around.

"Sergeant Reynolds, good to see your still fighting the good fight." the man dressed in plain slacks, and a dark brown leather bomber jacket, the star of a Lieutenant Colonel on his right shoulder greets the captain.

"Aint a merc, Captain Fox. Just a man doin a job." Mal replies as he ambles over to the rear gate of the massive transport truck, and slams its handle to open it.

The man begins to scoff, but the sheer volume of _Serenity_s haul cuts off any anger he may have felt "It's Lieutenant Colonel now, in case you went blind over the years." he quips as he extends his hand, which Mal shakes.

Mal shrugs as the 'soldiers' begin unloading the truck "Last I heard, allied high command disbanded a few years back... that sort of thing makes promotions hard."

Fox sighs, shaking his head "If your going to be like that, fine, I'll let it slide. And call me Jason, since I figure you'd be a captain yourself by now, with what I've heard... besides, appearances can be decieving"

The Lietenant colonel steps aside to let a pair of his soldiers pass with a crate of 60 cal. Light machine guns pass as Mal retorts "Independent command I knew wouldnt'a went into hiding... so I figure it must still be licked."

Fox shakes his head disappointedly, before asking "How did you manage the whole armory Mal? As much publicity as my offer got and I figured-"

"Added some gunhands to my crew. One might not make it cuz'a that publicity." Mal cuts him off.

The other man shrugs "A life spent in the pursuit of independence is one well spent. I had expected you to be more accepting of that Mal."

Mal turns to fully face the other man, his glare hardening as he replies "And if we were at war, you'd be right." Fox opens his mouth to reply, but Mal again cuts him off "Problem is, we aint. An while I fully believe that We will rise again, any blood shed before that happens is a pointless loss, or a black mark on our good name." he turns to walk away from the now exceedingly busy truck bed "You have the cash?"

"Need to count what exactly you brought me, but yes. Untraceable hard currency. It'll take a while to tabulate exactly what I owe you though. The officers mess is open to the three of you, of course." Fox answers a bit robotically, anger and indignation biting at his voice.

"Jayne, Sandro, with me." Mal orders, turning to head deeper into the base.

"Sergeant Simms, make sure they find the officers mess alright." Fox orders tersely as the trio walks away from him. The quartet proceeds in silence to the otherwise empty officers mess.

After a few awkward minutes, Simms leaves the decently appointed, mostly clean mess hall/bar, and Jayne finally asks "The ruttin hell was that cap'n. Thought you were a Browncoat... an I heard enough stories 'bout Fox ta know you thought he was a good officer."

Mal shakes his head "Exactly like I said Jayne. War isnt on... an even in a time of war we wouldn't treat mercs as rough as he treated the takers on this job."

"Sounds more like disappointment than anger if you ask me." Sandro extrapolates, getting a noncommittal shrug from a still sour looking Mal, and after a few moments of blank-faced thinking, understanding from Jayne.

The bartender walks into the room after a few more minutes of awkward silence. Jayne tilts his head to the bar, and all three men stand up in silent agreement, draining the awkwardness away as petty smalltalk begins to take over the deep thinking and heavy thoughts.

****Broken****

Kaylee, Rico and Henrietta exit the diner, tummys full and all smiles "Wait wait wait, you mean to say that you actually tied Rico to her bed a whole day over some dirty clothes 'Etta?" the mechanic struggles out between laughs.

Henrietta nods, and Rico has the good graces to blush, despite the total lack of any semblance of repentance on her face "Was an accident... I had to get Trielas bear back from Bice somehow or she would have killed me. I didnt know she had flahsbangs in her pockets..."

Grinning, Henrietta responds "Of course you didnt know she had explosives on her, why would she have those?"

Rico shrugs "Well, maybe Bernardo had caught her already that day..."

Kaylee giggles a bit more and teases "And maybe Jayne didnt spend a single second polishing Vera today."

"How can you be sure?" Rico shoots back, before stopping dead and detouring to a snack stand, forcing the other girls to follow her through the mass of humanity.

As Rico stops to gaze in vacant confusion at the stand advertising 'ice planets' Kaylee rolls her eyes before walking up to the waif of a girl working the stall, ordering three and replying "The two of you've been tellin me all'bout the other cyborgs an dorm life at the SWA for the last two hours. Dont believe Bice'd be without somethin went boom any longer than I would Tri sayin 'no' ta one of you comin up to her teary eyed and looking for help."

Henrietta nods enthusiastically as Kaylee passes out the treats, keeping one for herself "Your right, though Triela did decide to stay on the ship today..." as she, as gracefully as is possible, takes a nibble off of the ball of ice-cream dangling from a stick that had been handed to her.

Kaylee shrugs, expertly getting a full bite off of her snack, compared to the struggled out nibbles of the younger girls, before she answers "What did ya really expect Rico? Hillshires hurt bad an might not come back to us... you'da done the same thing if Jean was the same way."

Rico nods, before kicking at the ground and adding "I bet Bice would'a got along great with Janye... maybe even stopped being so quiet with Simons help."

Kaylee pats the cyborg on her back "An now she's probably settin off bombs all over heaven. Dont fret on it ying chi"

The next few minutes pass in amiable silence as Kaylee leads the trio to the freak show with the upside-down cow fetus she had promised to show them until a kid, about the same age as Henrietta and Rico runs past in a red and gold uniform, an oversized hikers pack laden with... something sprints past. He then proceeds to skid to a halt, backpedal, and match pace with the group, locking his steps with Henrietta "Hey bao bei, whats your Cortex address?"

Henrietta misses her mark trying to take a bite from her ice planet and smears her face at the unexpected question. She then proceeds to blush furiously and ask "W-why?"

He shrugs "So I can send you a wave, of course!" grinning from ear to ear, and starting to jog in place.

"But... I dont live here." Henrietta argues "And why me?"

The boy shrugs again "Most dont, and because your cute of course. Whats your name, by the way?" Henrietta's face shifts from a bit rosy to a full-fledged crimson and she nearly drops her ice planet at the boys candid assessment as he shamelessly eyes her up.

Repressing a giggle, Kaylee mouths 'do it' to the younger girl, who hands her ice planet off to Rico, the blonde nearly dropping the treat as she only has one hand to work with, and asks "Do you have a piece of paper?" rather dumbly to the boy, who smirks and produces a pen and piece of paper from his pocket and hands it to her. She writes down the direct line to her bunk on _Serenity_ before handing it back to him and answering his question "Henrietta."

"Cute." is the boys assessment as he pockets the pen and information.

"Whats yours?" the chestnut haired cyborg asks as he begins to streak off again.

The boy pauses long enough to spin around, and trotting backwards, replies "I work as a courier here on the station, so I'm in a bit of a hurry, you'll have to accept my Wave to get that sweety!"

After accepting her snack back from Rico, the still blushing brunette asks "What do I do now?"

"Accept the wave from him of course." Kaylee quips, elbowing the cyborg lightly.

Rico shrugs "When Emilio was interested in me, I learned to play the violin... maybe you should take up jogging?", tilting her head in thought.

"No, thats his job... I dont think that would make very good conversation." Henrietta replies thoughtfully, as Kaylee silently enjoys watching the two girls act... normal, and happy for the first time since she met them. As they continue to chat back and forth, she slips off to buy tickets for the freak show for the three of them, smiling to herself.

Kaylee catches up with the still babbling pair a few minutes later with the tickets to get them into the freak show, and, seeing as they are still on the same subject she interjects "But, you have a really interesting job 'Etta. Your the pilot on a... 'transport' ship." she glances over at the security guard a bit nervously "Bound to get him wrapped around your finger."

Rico's head tilts as she throws out her now finished ice planets stick "But... bodies dont bend that much."

Kaylee shakes her head as Henrietta starts to blush again "It's a figure of speech Rico... means she'll have a date with him for sure next time we stop back here."

Rico's mouth drops in an 'o' of understanding, and her cheeks get a rosy dusting as well, then Henrietta blusters out "H-How do you know if thats what I want?"

Kaylee giggles "Cuz I caught you ogling'is backside when he ran off 'Etta. I have an eye for budding romances I spose."

"He wasnt exactly sneaky about his toggling though." Rico snarks as they enter the tent.

Henrietta giggles a bit, coming out of her embarrassed shock, and neatly heading off any further questions about her opinion of the mystery boy by replying "You sounded a lot like Claes there, Rico."

****Broken****

Mal leads the trio from the rental center back towards _Serenity_ with a pensive look on his face. The mission may have left a sour taste in him mouth, but the pay was good... enough, after Badgers take. Most of the heavy sack of platinum slung over Jaynes shoulder was going to the scumbag after all. "Mal, Malcolm Reynolds, is that you I'm seeing?" a familiar voice barks out over the noise of the busy bazaar.

Mal wheels about, and searches the crowd before exclaiming "Black? Jet Black is that you?" The big man shoulders his way through the crowd, cybernetic arm first, and nearly crushes Mals hand when he offers the same cheap, poorly polished prosthetic for a handshake.

"Still tryin to keep that heap of gou'shi in the air Reynolds?" he asks, falling in step with the group.

Mal nods, and replies "And doing a sight better than you are keeping the _Bebops_ fridge full Black. Aint no cash in bounty hunting if you aint in the Guild."

Jet scoffs "Says the man had to beg for a re-fuel over an open line. Your damn lucky I didnt ask you to pay for the gas Mal."

Mal tilts his head, and puts on a mock hurt expression "Was a one time deal Jet. Aint no way thats happenin to _Serenity _again."

"Mostly cuz he's finally smart enough to demand enough plat up front to refuel now" Jayne grumbles.

"That and we're doin pretty well for ourselves lately." Sandro interjects, hoping to head off another annoying spat between the captain and his longest employed gunhand.

Jet scratches at the black beard that runs the perimeter of his jaw and replies "Suppose if your adding crew you must be... lookin for work?"

Mal cocks an eyebrow at Jet and shoots back "Might be... but you know I dont go after bountyheads."

"Not the sort of job it'd be, need an extraction ship, and a damn good one." Jet answers "A bunch of innocent bounty hunters got rounded up by some up and coming border world baron making a power play. Pays good since over a dozen ships are ponying up."

Jayne scoffs, spits and, glaring crossways at Jet's bald head interjects "Innocent bounty hunter my well muscled buttocks. Aint no such thing."

Jet glares at the merc "An you aint the captain of _Serenity_, and with Spike, I'm sure your right. But Ed?" no, she's an innocent and you damn well know it Cobb." The merc stumbles at the bounty hunters outburst as the bald man turns back to Mal and adds "Judging by the stagger in Cobbs step, and knowing what we're all putting in, pay would probably equal or beat the job you just ran. Since Faye an I would be the ones ta bring you in, we'd be your contact for the whole thing save the raid after you get our people free. Wave me if your interested."

Mal just nods as he steps through the security checkpoint separating the bazaar at large from the smaller private landing bay he had had 'Etta land _Serenity_ in.

****Broken****

Mal walks happily through his ship in search of Henrietta so that they could get off the ground. He passes River poking her head out from a vent, Simon and Kaylee cuddling in a chair in the common room, and then, something that gives him pause enough to turn around. Triela, outside her spot in the infirmary for the first time since Vic had caught those bullets to his gut. The captain follows the morose cyborg, and, when she pauses just out of sight of the infirmary, resting against the wall, right hand seemingly holding her up, and head down, he asks "Get any better?" Triela shakes her head in a silent negative, before pushing off the wall to finish her treck back to the infirmary. Sighing, Mal follows her and adds "Good to see you out of the infirmary at least Tri."

"Bathrooom" she replies roboticaly, not breaking her stride as the captin trails her, undaunted.

The sight in the infirmary causes both of them to lurch to a halt in the doorway. On his bed, is one Victor Hartmann, not laying comatose, but propped up on his elbows, and glancing about confusedly "Triela?" he croaks out, voice painfully hoarse.

"PAPA!" the tan cyborg exclaims, before launching herself at the barely conscious man, the wind forced from his lungs as she latches onto him in a bone-crushing hug. From his position Mal see's a perculiar progression of emotions cross the Germans face. First is the obvious pain of a man recovering from a gut wound being so forcefully hugged. Following that is confusion, then a contented happiness pushes the first to away. When Triela buries her head in his shoulder and starts crying, his expression switch to concern, which bleeds quickly away into worry as he begins to rub her back as the sobs are muffled by his shoulder. When his gaze falls on the nest of blankets at his bedside, it is washed away by self loathing.

Mal just smirks, nods at the handler turned mercenary, and walks from the bay as the other man continues consoling the girl he just realized had been his daughter all along that he will, in fact be fine, and there for her.

* * *

><p>and there it is! I also dont own Coboy Bebop...<p>

mandarin translation: bao bei: darling

As usual, reviews are a huge motivation boost to me! and besides, I love hearing what you guys think!


	11. Chapter 11

A/N:No, I dont own Firefly/Serenity of Gunslinger Girl

Yes, it took a while again, but hey, I heit my deadline of before the month ends at least!

And finally a big BIG thank you to my reviewers from the last chapter:

JackMatrix: Dont worry, you'll get plenty of crossover in this part of the story... and yea, I do need to do that too eventually, heh. Why must you give me more distracting ideas lol?

Word Adict 620: glad to know your enjoying, and here it is, haha

VizeerLord: Why thank you sir, and here you go.

Not to sound beggy, but those are what keep me the most motivated to keep working towards an update,. every single one I get makes me wanna run to my computer and get typing. All 26 of you following, and 21 who favorited me are awesome, thanks guys!

* * *

><p>"I'm not made of porcelain Triela" Hillshire gripes to his cyborg daughter as she forcibly helps him down the hallway "Where are we going anyways? Doc said I still need to rest."<p>

Triela huffs, easily defeats his feeble attempt to stand on his own and replies "Common room for dinner."

"I can eat in the infirmary." Hillshire replies plainly as the pair hobbles along at the wounded mans pace.

The twintailed girl shifts her gaze to look at Victor and replies "Too much time in the same room will drive anyone crazy. This is for your own good."

Vic suppresses the urge to roll his eyes, more for fear of Trielas ire than any urge to maintain his usual demeanor and replies "I'm not hungry, and Simon said I cant eat anything heavy for a week yet."

Triela again rebuffs the wounded, and now slightly shaking mans attempt to turn back to the infirmary as she replies "An IV drip of nutrient slurry has been keeping you alive for weeks now, I dont like being lied to." the cyborg pauses, turns her head again to lock eyes with her mule-headed stick in the mud of a father and adds "And I made soup." before pulling him through the threshold to the common room where Rico is happily and rapidly spooning soup from the bowl before her into her mouth next to Henrietta, who is pensively eying her smaller, less filled bowl. Mal is nervously glancing back and forth between the book sitting next to the big soup kettle, the one that can feed the whole crew, and a book labeled '1001 ways to cook spam', propped open to a specific page next to the kettle; bowl and spoon loosely dangling in his left hand.

"You... cooked?" Hillshire asks, his train of thought totally derailed.

Treila nods, a satisfied grin splitting her face "Enough for everyone." Henrieta moves a small spoonful to her mouth, smiles as she swallows and swiftly matches her sisters ravenous pace. Mal takes a step away from the kettle nervously "Cheesy bacon and broccoli soup!" she proudly announces, gesturing towards the kettle with her free hand.

Rico tilts her head as she look up from her bowl "Shouldn't it be 'fake-cheesy dehydrated-broccoli bacon-substitute soup' Triela?" Mal backs away from the soup and begins fixing himself a sandwich.

Victor deflates as he lets Triela deposit him in a chair before going to fix two bowls of 'soup' "On the mend then Vic?" the captain asks as he sits down in the chair next to the recovering handler turned mercenary, leaving the seat between the black haired man and the other two cyborgs open.

"Doc... Doctor Tam says at least two more weeks of light duty." victor corrects himself as Triela sits on his other side with a pair of bowls, and slides one to Hillshire.

Mal nods as he chews on his 'safe' meal, and replies "On the good painkillers?"

Victor shakes his head, swallows a spoonful of soup, suppresses a grimace and replies "Simon says my liver may be in slight shock, so no, I'm level headed and hurting."

"Gorram good pity." Mal answers as Triela happily tears into her soup at the same speed as the other cyborgs "Mind if I bounce an idea off ya then?" Hillshire shrugs, so Mal continues "Got a job offer. Rescue some bounty hunters locked-up on a lie of a power play by a wanna-be Border World Baron."

Victor nods, swallows another bite, face shifting away from the grimace a bit, and asks "Who's the lead?"

"Old friend, Londinium Police Detective that left the force on account of the corruption." Mal answers.

"You trust him?" Hillshire asks.

Mal shrugs "Like the brother I never had."

Triela swallows her bite and asks "Wheres the job at?"

Mal sets his sandwich down to take a drink and wipe his face as Inara glides into the room and fills a bowl of soup "Bout two weeks out. On a train."

Victor nods at Inara in lieu of a spoken of greeting, before turning back to Mal "Have you worked a train job before?"

The captain casts a sidelong glance at Inara as Rico and Henrietta polish off their bowls and rise to leave before answering "Once."

"Was it a success?" Rico asks as she dumps her bowl in the sink.

Inara smirks as she starts eating "Mosttly."

Mal rolls his eyes "Oh, like you'd'a let us finish a job like that once you knew the specifics."

"I saved your sorry rear end, didnt I?" Inara quips after swallowing her soup.

"If you know how to run a train job, why ask me for feedback?" Victor asks a bit groggily.

Mal shrugs "I ran a heist, this is a tactical takeover to stage a mass break-out."

Triela looks over to the captain from above a steaming spoonful of soup "Weren't you a Browncoat sergeant?"

"Rifleman brigade Tri, you two're the covert ops experts." Mal replies after Rico and Henrietta leave the room.

Victor falls into a fit of coughs, before he very hoarsely replies "And Jayne? Isn't he the military expert?"

Mal suppresses a snort and answers "Applied explosives expert and marksman. Not a tactical mind by any stretch. This's the sort of job you've probably done more times than I care to ask."

Hillshire shrugs "We did detective work if you wanna split hairs, but I'll bite anyways. I take it you plan to bring the others in a bit later?"

"Others?"

"Sandro and Jayne. I'm just one crewman after all." Hillshire answers before taking another bite.

"Actually, none of us ever had a mission on a train." Triela inserts pensively.

Victor glances over at the blond "The location is secondary since Mal has worked on one before, we have the know-how for the mission profile." The girls response is to frown and nod, allowing Victor to turn back to the captain to ask "what is the basic plan."

Mal nods at Kaylee and Simon as they walk in to get their dinners, and answers "Zipcord and cut our way into the cell cars 'bout midway, work to the lead cars to separate the cell cars before the last security checkpoint before the train gets to the prison."

"Assets?" the former handler asks.

"One inside woman, skilled combatant and damn lucky to boot." Mal answers.

Victor pinches the bridge of his nose "Where will she be posted?"

Mal shrugs nonchalantly "Dont rightly know, hope they can tell me if'n we take the job."

"How many cars do we have to work through?" Victor presses, before cutting Mal's reply off to press on with "Do we have a layout of the train?"

The captain works his mouth before answering " Standard 'Liance layout, so it depends on where we drop, and yes... after we dig a bit."

Inara forces a solitary laugh and interjects "More than he had for the last train job."

Mal wheels about to glare at the woman "Hey, that aint the truth and you know it 'Nara." before angrily taking a bite of his rye cold-cut and adding "Was a gorram good plan if I do say so myself. Probably workable as a base for this job with some effort."

Victor lets a coughing snort that was probably supposed to be a laugh escape his mouth, before asking in his still incredibly raspy voice "Payout?"

"Good'nuff to balance out Badgers take on this last job according to Black." Mal answers nonchalantly.

Victor swallows another bite of soup as Jayne enters the room, spots the kettle, grins and fills his own bowl. The german then replies slightly more audibly "May as well take it, since your asking."

"And we need to talk about what exactly Badger gets for the set-up we just worked." Triela interjects.

Mal turns to look at Treila "How so?" his voice teetering on the edge of insult.

"Well, lets see, enough other crews showed to make it clear the job wasnt 'xactly a secret. Enough petty thiefs and thugs to make it clear that it wasnt as clean a job as that hun dan made it too be; and finally, enough professional mercenary ships to make it clear it was far out of what he thinks our league is." Jayne bites out "Half-a-dozen other men in Eavesdown coulda gave us that lead. Aint no reason that _she-tou_ should get a penny of whats ours now."

Triela balks a bit before replying "I... agree with Jayne." sounding a bit shocked. Mal looks over to Victor, who simply nods.

"Gave my word." Mal replies plainly, that single sentence carrying immense weight.

Inara shakes her head a bit sadly "To the last man it should ever be given to. You of all people should know that Malcolm.

Mal glances between the crewmembers currently surrounding him, before shooting back "Aint the subject we're on right now."

Vic points at Mal with his empty spoon and retorts "I thought we had resolved the initial issue. Badger is the new one."

Mal sags a bit as he swallows his last bite before answering "Meet with Jet on New Canaan in five days then. Jobs on Stonewall just a few days off. We'll be takin' Jets people with us to Whitefall where Jet'll pay us for the hunters want their crew back."

****Broken****

Jayne, for his part, is glad that the mens room at the bar he is currently trying to relax in is empty. After all, the last time he had been in a situation like this, some stranger had commented "damn fine daughter your raisin" as _Serenitys_ 'public relations' officer had been trying to take a piss in-between games of pool. That had been back on Persephone, and, much like right now, there had been time to burn before anything important happened. To make matters worse, this time Jayne wasn't even going to be needed later today. Mal had chose Sandro to accompany him to meet with Jet, and assigned Petra, River and Triela to act as hidden security. Vic was on bedrest, 'Nara off working her own job, 'Etta running sims in the cockpit, Simon and Kaylee off on a date. So, Rico had once again attached herself to Jayne on his journey to the bars.

Which lead back to the mercenaries current conundrum. His pity-fueled attempt to console a sad kid had spiraled massively out of control. Jayne Cobb saw himself as many things, family man in the sense of 'wife and or kids' as a possessive was not one of them. Thats why he preferred whores and one-night-stands to anything steady. That is one of the myriad reasons he hadnt waved home beyond wiring cash for years, as that was a bone of contention Ma would rail on him for countless hours. And now... gorramit Rico had probably won the game of doubles they were in a few minutes ago, he needed to get back out there.

And that was just it, when she was around his mindset shifted, and he wasnt sure what to make of it. It had seemed almost, normal, when Rico announced she was going with him. He hadn't felt all that mad when the captain again ordered 'no titty-bars' with a half-smirk after hearing the kids announcement. He hadnt questioned her turning a 'can I?' into an 'I'm gonna.'

Jayne Cobb is a confused man as he leaves the bathroom. Seconds later he catches a pool cue that had been lobbed his way, barely looking up to catch it. He silently pulls the wad of cash that had been rubber banded to it off its base, counts and pockets it. He tosses the source of his confusion an approving smirk, before letting it shift to a smug one as he pulls his cigar from the ashtray he had left it on and sizes up the target rich environment of a table Rico had left him after breaking the new game they were now in, despite the opposing pairs best efforts after the cyborg currently sporting an ear-splitting grin's best efforts to claim solids on her first shot.

"Good job Tiny." the merc quips before claiming 'solids' as their color and proceeding to sink half of them. And that was the gorram problem, the random strangers quip from a few weeks back hadn't troubled his mind in the way he had expected, nor in any disagreeable manner.

Rico walks over to the patch of wall Jayne had selected as he watches their opponents bicker, point and try to plan their shots. She leans against the wall, directly in the line of his cigars smoke, and crosses her arms under where an early bloomers boobs would be, one hand holding a tumbler with a few ice cubes and filled with an amber liquid, the other holds the bottle of Cola she had filled it with. 'Aw hell, she's copyin me again' Jayne mentally quips before taking a swig from his glass "Tryin ta look older than ya do?"

Rico shakes her head and smirks before replying "Better this way." as she takes a drink. The other team fails on their third shot and Rico scoffs in derision. The barely-teenage marksman proceeds to take four balls out of the equasion in as many shots, blatantly missing on purpose on her last shot. She stalks back to the spot Jayne was waiting at and asks "why hasnt anyone else put down for next round yet?"

Jayne shakes his head sadly "Cuz you dont understand how ta shark Tiny. Yer supposed to look like a handicap bringin' down th'giant normally not let into proper monied games 'round here." he pauses and takes a drink "Not many're stupid enough ta go up against two as good as us at once." Before proceeding to take a few more balls out, and block their opponents shots cleanly in three shots.

Rico heaves a sigh "But its boring to keep missing. And setting up the other team for easy shots is..." she trails off, at a loss for the words needed to complete her train of thought. A moment later she simply bellies up to the table and drains a few more balls, leaving only the 8-ball for the dou to put into a pocket.

Jayne chuckles "Iffin ya wanna cut loose we can just go splits on a table fer the common room."

"Wont fit in the common room an you know it." the girl shoots back.

"Then we'll put it in the cargo bay."

Rico tilts her head to the side in thought before answering "Bad idea, that"

"Says who?"

"Says me, takes up space."

"Whys that matter?"

"Means less space fer cargo. That means less pay."

"So?"

"Part've crews job is to help turn profit."

"Who says yer crew?"

"I do."

"Talk to Mal?"

Rico opens her mouth to reply, shuts it, pouts for a bit, then opens it again only to be cut off by "One'a you wanna finish this farce off so I can get a new drink?" one of the men from the other team cuts in angrily. Jayne grabs his cue, and swiftly does the other team in. Of course, no one is dumb enough to take to the table to challenge the duo.

"Now what?" Rico asks, already calmed down.

Jayne shrugs "Dunno. Try darts maybe?"

The girl pouts again "That will be better?"

"Ehh, probably not." Jayne replies before taking one last long drag from his cigar and plunging it into the ashtray he had claimed along with the pool table.

After a few moments of silence, Rico sets her soda down, walks over to the pool table, plants a hand on a rail and vaults up onto it. After the stray balls cease bouncing around, she shouts out "YOU MEAN THAT NOT A SINGLE ONE OF YOU CAN BEAT A LITTLE GIRL AT POOL?" before throwing her entire half of their take from the day so far down on the table.

Jaynes mind strains as it shoots in three ways _aw hell_ being the first thought, followed immediately by _never shoulda taught her pool_ and finally _iffin any of them swing at her when they lose... _ all three thoughts stretching out in his head to take up the same amount of time. As nearly half the bar rises to her challenge.

****Broken****

To any passerby, they are just three friends out to coffee. Trielas handgun is in the inside pocket of her trenchcoat, which looks more like a hand-me-down than a well used custom garment when contrasted with her fitted t-shirt and jeans. Petras is inside her khaki jacket, which is hanging off the back of her chair. Rivers freshly acquired micro-smg is strapped to her inner thigh, her dresses slit allowing just enough range of motion for her to reach it. Despite the redheads plain blouse/pleated skirt combo giving her the look of the oldest of the trio being true; and the fact that the more conservative garb clearly spoke to a stable, long-term relationship they are not two younger girls asking their more experienced friend for advice on their love lives.

The coffee shop is one directed at the cities college freshmen, high school seniors and drop-out new hires though, so thats what most people passing the trios patio table see. Of course, all three can inconspicuously watch Mal, Sandro and Jet's negotiations as their conversation carries their gazes from side to side. Their triangular seating arrangement lets them observe pedestrian and vehicular traffic from all directions. That and the coffee is good. River had vouched for that. And, maybe the two younger girls, despite their awkwardness did have a desire to be at least somewhere approaching the redheads relationship status. Maybe.

River takes a sip from her latte "Not going to go that well though. I'm crazy and plain."

"No, your not..." Petra heaves a sigh, wondering how the conversation had moved to this point, and frankly, shes at a loss, what she has had literally fallen into her lap "A supermodel, and thats a good thing. Means decent guys wont get scared off cuz your out of their leage. Means you wont have ta deal with the sort of dirtbag that figures he can make a move on a supermodel." she points out a couple about their age walking down the street. Triela's gaze sweeps past the duo... still business as usual at the restaurant across the street. "You look way better than her Riv."

Triela smirks a bit before slipping in "So she wont get any womanizers like Sandro your saying?"

The redhead whips her head around to focus on Triela as she bites back with "He hasnt so much as looked at another girl for a reason not mission related since we started dating."

River starts to laugh as Triela, still sporting her impish grin and leaning back in her chair answers "Because your the first girlfriend he's had who can literaly turn his bones to dust if he so much as thinks about cheating on you."

Petra opens her mouth to reply in kind, but realizes she has no real response and shuts it. River starts to pout again, before moving back to the original topic by observing "But she isnt feng-le like me. I can read it"

Triela shuts her eyes and massages them, before asking "Doesnt that put her ahead though? knowing whats going through boys heads?"

Petra resists the urge to smash her head into the table at the sheltered girls remark. That would leave a dent, which would cause people to start asking questions "Boys are easy to understand. They want in your pants. They want to have fun. They want to eat. They want to be the strong one and the one in charge." she pauses, and smirks a bit before adding "Though being able to read minds will make you an absolute _goddess_ in bed probably" setting both girls to blushing for the stupidity of their line of questioning.

"Dont see how that helps me then, I'll always be stronger." Triela quips offhandedly after she begins to recover.

River looks over to the blond "Strength isnt always muscle though."

Petra cracks a grin, and leans back 'to stretch' allowing her to make her own security check of the diner "What she said."

Triela blows a stray strand of hair out of her eyes as she shoots out "That was a cop-out if I've ever heard one" before taking a sip from her plain black coffee.

"So?" Petra answers as Triela spins her napkin before setting her cup down; still all clear. "I literally woke up to Sandro... if I did date before I became a cyborg I cant remember it." she huffs out as she leans forward onto her left elbow, flailing her right arm wildly as her dead drops into her left hand "Can talk all day on holding it together, but actually finding a boy?"

River shrugs and looks over to her tanned companion "Still knows more about love than us, right?"

Triela shakes her head "Asks the reader who's spent years around a Companion, and now her very happily involved brother."

The readers face shifts from a look of sympathetic camaraderie to her patented 'your such a boob' face as she swallows her drink, before she answers "Inara and Mal know more about how to not have a relationship alone than both of us combined. Your using the wrong definition of love if you mean just Inara." she pauses to take another sip, before finishing "And gege is gege. I dont want to know." Triela opens her mouth to retort, but River cuts her off with "Would you want to know Hillshires thoughts on his love life?"

Triela makes a sound akin to a cat being strangled by spaghetti noodles and flushes. "Speaking of Hillshire, hows he doing?" Petra asks as the noise quiets.

The tan girls first reaction is to point out that Petra is changing the subject, but decides to let it slide "Stubborn. Doesnt want help with what he needs his help with. And now that we figured out why our relationship has always been so... hard to describe he's gotten all..."

"Protective?" River offers, now sporting an impish grin before taking a long drink of her moccachino as Trielas face again lights up. "Like a father would be of his 15 year old daughter?"

Triela opens her mouth, but Petra cuts her off, swirling her cafe latte as she interjects "At least Sandro and I would have been in the winning half of the pool if the rest of the Agency were with us."

When Petra takes a drink, River arches an eyebrow, and glances to the side, still all clear across the street "Wouldnt all fit."

Triela however, seems to have temporarily forgotten as she leans across the table to glare at the redhead "How many?" she demands.

Totally unfazed, Petra quips "Oh, all the fratello that were dating or fucking were in on it." before taking another drink.

"How much?" the blond pushes tensely.

Petra opens her mouth to quip back, but Rivers announcement of "Finishing the deal." snaps the two girls back to the job at hand.

Triela heaves a sigh "So now I dont even get to finish my coffee?"

"Its plain black, whats the big deal?" Petra counters, not moving to get up as Mal, Sandro and Jet amble away from their table.

River shoots Petra a funny look before answering "Its a good blend, and their going to a bar, our job is done."

Petra shakes her head in mock sadness as she answers "Still stakeout coffee. They have so many better options here."

Triela takes a big drink of her coffee and leans back in her chair contentedly "Nothin wrong with stakeout food."

Petra lets a very unladylike snort escape her nose before quipping "And you act mad that I had you pegged for ending up callin Vic 'papa' or something like that." she pauses to sip from her drink as River starts to giggle "Only the two of you could actually like that gou-shi."

Rivers giggles escalate to full blown laughter as Trielas face shifts to a tricksters grin as she leans forward to reply "So, you didnt enjoy those long nights stuck in a car with your dear Sandro?"

Part of Petra's mind wants to blush, stutter and be offended at being caught out. But its a small part. Most of her brain is occupied with tuning out Rivers now raucous laughter, gorram readers, as she leans forward to shoot back "Ta ma de, you mentioned sex without blushing or goin all awkward. Thats gotta be a first." This observation is enough to break the younger girls snide demeanor, any reply she had devolves to stuttering as, once again, the baby of the groups face lights up red in embarrassment.

****Broken****

Henriettas face is drawn tight into a mask of concentration, sweat beading on her forehead. Her legs are twitching with nervous energy, her hands rock steady despite the trembling in her arms. She is running the Miranda sim, pulled straight from _Serenitys_ data banks, for the first time. The viewport acting as a giant screen, the telemetry gathered from the flight becoming a perfect simulation as she attempts the landing that killed the last pilot. After almost a minute, a stray railgun round penetrates the ships engine, then a swarm of missiles obliterate it. The viewport flashes back, then returns to transparent, showing the plain docking bay the ship is set down in. "Pushing yourself a bit hard, aren't you?" Inara asks from the spot against the bulkhead she had watched the whole run from.

The drained girl tilts her head back just enough to look at the reader "No, if I'm going to be the pilot I need to be the best possible."

Inara scoffs "So you work yourself ragged running sims?"

"What else was I going to do? Everyone but me had somewhere to be." Henrietta offers as a half-hearted defense.

Inara walks over to sit in the copilots chair "So you dont have any hobbies? Nothing you could do to spend a few hours while you wait for someone to get back?" a dust caked violin case, not touched since she unpacked her things comes to mind and keeps the cyborg silent. After a few minutes, Inara presses "What is it then, Henrietta?"

The girl sighs, pulls her legs to her chest and answers "I... I play the violin."

Inara heaves a sigh "So,. You have a perfectly good relaxing, uplifting way to pass the time, and you do something that will keep you from finding a bit of happiness?"

"But I-"

Inara cuts the cyborg off by pulling up the list of simulations run, almost all of them well outside her current skill level. "Like I said, you do what will keep you sad, or from escaping the toxic mindset the SWA kept you poor girls in."

The cyborg bristles, snaps her head to face the companion "I take it your job went badly?"

Inara glares back at the now out of line girl "It was a non-intimate job. More like spending an afternoon with a widower grandfather, and rather enjoyable. I just think you are being unnecessarily hard on yourself and bullheaded about not letting your life move on." she pauses to take a breath, school her demeanor from one of frustration back into a calm mask before asking "So, if you could play something upbeat for me, to keep the good mood going, it would be nice. I always did like the violin more than the fiddle."

The cyborg blushes, pouts, then retorts "Its the same instrument."

Inara shrugs as both girls calm features slowly become accurate reflections of their mood again "And you will end up playing the fiddle more than the violin if you take crew requests, trust me."

The brunette bristles at the thought of her Amati being abused like a fiddle. Silence reigns as the girl works to control her emotions, before replying "I haven't even touched it since I woke up, I may not be that good."

Inara shrugs "That's alright, I'm sure your quite skilled, if what I've seen from you girls since you woke up is any indicator." The cyborg relents, letting her head drop for a minute before she stands up and makes her way to her room to collect her violin case and make her way to the common room, where Inara is already sitting, a book resting on the table next to her. Henrietta starts by playing a few notes, pouting and setting about tuning her violin. It takes a while, and Inara reads while the girl tunes by ear.

The brunette starts off with a slow song, clearly classical Earth That Was to Inaras trained ear, though she can place neither song or composer. It is a slow song, with an uplifting feel once it gets to the later portion. When Henrietta finishes the song, Inara opens her mouth to compliment the girl, but she almost immediately launches into another song. The reader takes offense at first, but the girls content expression and closed eyes keep her from saying anything.

After a few songs the younger girl sits down as she continues to play, and the songs begin to stray from the vague 'something upbeat' Inara had requested to whatever the girl feels like playing. A while after that, it becomes obvious to Inara that Henrietta is simply stringing notes together, playing from the heart. Mal is the first crewman to enter the common room, he pauses, listening to the music, before selecting the seat next to Inara and quipping "I really could get used to this."

Henrietta blushes a bit, but the song continues unabated, though it does begin to climb from the melancholy reprieve it had been in ever so slightly. "She really is a prodigy, a shame we wont get to hear her classical playing very often, with what the crew will be requesting." the companion pauses, a playful grin on her face "In fact, I'm surprised you didnt ask what was wrong with her fiddle."

Mal leans back, mock hurt etched on his face as the tune brightens even further "Hey, havin been a soldier doesnt mean I'm uncultured."

The companions grin grow as she shrugs and quips "You do clean up nice when you want to I suppose. My statement still stands though."

Mal leans back, a content look crossing his face as he admits "I like a good fiddle or guitar tune as much as the next man, but this is still nice."

For a few minutes nothing but music can be heard, until Henreitta asks during a lull in her tune "So, the job is a go?"

Mal, who had almost been dozing, cracks an eye open an and answers "Yea, but we wont take off for a few days yet, and the trip is gonna be a slow one so that we show up at the right time. Dont pay it no mind for now."

Henrietta nods a bit, and goes fully back into playing her violin, the world again seeming to melt away for her after a while. Inara is about to open her mouth to say something, but is cut off by Jayne barking out "Gorramit girl, my left! Not Yours! Gonna break the thing at this rate!"

Mal sighs and pushes himself up and moans out "Aw ruttin hell. What now?" as Henriettas playing tails off in confusion. The trio make their way to the cargo bay to see Jayne and Rico carrying a pool table that looks like it had been recently been looted from some dive bar, Jayne holding up the back of it and walking forward, Rico walking backwards and holding up her end with one hand, the other pulling an eye open as she blows the merc a raspberry.

"Did they..." Inara wonders aloud

"Rico wouldnt" Henrietta responds, violin and bow hanging loosely at her sides

"Jayne would." Inara inserts, as she turns to look at Henrietta.

"He aint that dumb, otherwise I wouldnta hired'im." Mal cuts the banter off before shouting down from the walkway "Mind to explain why you two got a pool table looks stolen?"

Rico turns around to grin up at Mal and announce "Cause I won Cap'n, more for us to do on long trips now!"

The girl bumps into a support pillar as she continues to beam up at him. Jayne curses under his breath at her as Mal asks "Won what."

Jayne scoffs "Gorram near every game'a'pool after she made a swipe at the masculinity of every man in the bar fer not bein able to beat the two of us in doubles. Owner gave us the table after she damn near put him on the street when he agreed to double'r'nothin" a grin stretching across his face as he finishes, and the dou sets the table down near the weight bench.

Rico half skips away from the table after setting her cue case down on top of it as she adds "And I know it takes up space so I'll make sure to work extra hard so that we dont loose any money on jobs Captain." she pauses, before looking up at Mal with what most would call 'puppy eyes' though Henrietta knew just mean trouble as she adds "Oh, and I would really like it if you let me stay on as crew captain Reynolds sir."

Mal opens his mouth to reply, then shuts it. 'why do I need another gun hand' crosses it and is discarded. 'Why do I want a kid' crosses it and is discarded. 'You'll be nothing but trouble' is discarded just as fast, and he finally answers "Same cut as Jayne gets now. Aint startin you high an bustin you back to a reasonable rate for gruntwork an a gunhand, like I did him. Bein fair right off."

Rico lights up, and bolts up the stairs to tackle-glomp Mal to the ground as she exclaims "Thankyouthankyouthankyouthankyou!"

* * *

><p>And thats it for this update. Next time: Another Train Job! More Medical Magic! Tow of the Girls get a Crush and get Crushed! Coming... soonish, sooner with each review, those are my rocket fuel after all, and are much appreciated.<p> 


	12. Chapter 12

I dont own Firefly, I dont own Gunslinger Girl, hell I dont even own an automobile with the shape of the thing I drive around in.

AN1: Whats that, an update that didnt take months? Shh, dont jinx it.

AN2: VizeerLord: thats an interesting analogy you have for the cyborgs, I like it, heh.

bomber68: Yea, Ed's gonna be fun, heh. and thanks for the review.

Rc1212: I've been starting to almost feel guilty about what I've been doing to 'Etta lately, she definitely deserves a few.

JackMatrix: thanks man, for both the review and the recommendation, I'll see if I cant find it and give it a watch.

Destro-of-the-worldses: Yea, I absolutely love writing the Jaye and Rico bits, guess it shows a bit, heh.

* * *

><p>"Was a dirty trick Tiny." Jayne accuses as Mal and Inara leave the cargo bay, Rico and Henrietta walking down the stairs to join him. "Were cussin an tradin banter as good as any man in that bar not two hours ago." Rico simply blushes a bit and shrugs, having no defense.<p>

Henrietta snorts out a supressed giggle "did you really think you needed an act to get a job and a home from the captain Rico?" as she gently sets her violin and bow down on the unocupied, vclean weight bench as the other two begin making adjustments to their new pool tables placement.

Rico sets her half of the table down to turn and look at Henrietta "Well, I was just worried that if I talked like I have been lately he'da..."

Jayne smirks and finishes "Said he didnt need a little girl version'a me around." the merc pauses, inspects the tables location, and steps back satisfied before he finishes "Not that'e woulda, cap'ns too gorram nice fer'is own good sometimes.

Henrietta sighs "Exactly, he wouldve kept you on either way. He probably would have offered you a job the way he did me." a bit of exasperation and desperation in her voice.

Rico tilts her head in confusion as she answers "But your a pilot 'Etta, I'm a gunhand. Folk dont have ta know he has a kid pilot. I'm more visible and, well, likely to make people shoot at us." she pauses for a bit before adding "And you said that Mal read you the riot act over how you acted on the mission Henrietta."

Caught out, the brunette blushes and stamps her foot "You still didnt have to be so sneaky about it."

Jayne starts to chuckle at the girls antics as Rico replies "Coming from the girl who came up with the 'Help me, they have guns and I'm scared' ploy?" Henriettas gaze shifts to one of betrayal as Rico continues "Besides, it was fun to glomp him like that... though I think you'll be more fun" Rico's grin turns impish as she starts to advance on her sister.

"Hey, Rico... easy now. My violin is in the room..." Henrietta warns as she begins to back away.

Rico tilts her head, reveling in her sister finally acting herself again "And you dont have enough chain to tie me down anymore."

Jayne watches the two chase around the cargo bay for a bit, turning to leave as River, Triela and Petra move into sight outside the ship, each holding a few small bags. As the trio approaches the boarding ramp, and Rico catches Henrietta, forcing the brunette into an impromptu wrestling match, and Jayne turns to leave the room, still grinning a bit as the mirthful screams and giggles of the two girls fill the otherwise empty cargo bay.

****Broken****

"You know she played you, right Mal?" Inara asks the captain as the pair passes the infirmary.

Mal nods, not even bothering to look over at her "Course I do. Girl aint dumb, we both know how touchy a subject soldiers like her are. Sure I want'er as crew, an she needs a good place ta live." he pauses to glance over at Inara "Some things you just dont come at head on though."

The companion shakes her head "So you let her put on her little show... for no-one."

Mal shakes his head "Aint that 'Nara. Was her way a sayin that she's still a kid at the end of the day." he pauses to rub at his ribs "And the tackle-hug was no joke, ruttin hurt. Think I broke a rib."

Inara chuckles as she turns to take the corridor to her shuttle "Then why did you let her carry it that far?"

"Seemed like the thing to do at the time." Mal answers with a shrug as he pauses to keep talking with the companion.

Inara sighs in false disaproval as she answers "Then you did it to yourself, and the shrug proves that your perfectly fine." before she continues down the corridor, swaying her hips ever so slightly as she makes for her home.

Mal stands at the edge of the corridor for a few minutes before making his way to the common room. He flicks the lights back on, walks over to the ships comm, types in the captains code, and announces to the whole ship "Vic, Jayne, Sandro, common room in ten." he has a job to plan, after all.

****Broken****

"Good. Lets run the plan one more time then turn in, we should reach Salisbury tomorrow, a few hours before the target reaches its destination." Victor compliments the bored looking girls before him.

Petra groans and lets her head drop to the common rooms table, and silently wishes the German sitting opposite them was still on the brink of being put back in the infirmary. "Why? We already went through it perfectly five times tonight. And we spent all day cleaning guns and checking gear. I just wanna sleep."

Rico looks over to the redhead "Its the day before a job, so why wouldn't we?"

Petra's head snaps up to glare at the younger girl, River sighs, and cuts off the impending argument by starting "Henrietta will bring _Serenity_ up to the cargo car eight from the back, and synchronize speed."

The younger brunette nods her thanks to the other girl and continues "This will put us at the start of the back third of the train. Kaylee will lower Jayne down with the oxy-fuel cutter, and he will make the entry hole."

"Then River and I will jump through the hole and immediately start working towards the front guard car." Triela adds, the only one to speak so far without exhaustion showing in her voice.

Still pouting, Petra continues "We will meet up with Faye Valentine, under the alias of Faith Verash as we work forward opening cells and neutralizing guards."

Rico shrugs and adds in "Their objective is to make it to the forward guard car, clear it, and separate the rear portion of the train before it reaches the last checkpoint station before the spaceport it is bound for." before she nudges a dozing Henrietta.

The girl starts, glances about, then chimes in "After we recover Jayne, the Captain, you and Petra will be lowered down to clear the rear guard car."

Triela smirks at the other girls near lapse, stifles a yawn and continues "Jayne and Rico will provide fire support for them from _Serenity_."

"After the train splits we land and defend the separated cars until the _Brutus _arrives to collect the prisoners not part of the _Bebops_ crew," Petra quickly tacks on, before pushing her chair back ever so slightly.

Victor pinches his nose and shakes his head "Because?"

River shoots her over-eager friend her patented 'your such a boob' look, before completing "Because we lack the room for all of the prisoners, we ceded a small part of the payoff to the _Brutus_ as she has the room to carry all of the inmates. It will go to a rendezvous on Bransons Mark to deposit the prisoners and get paid, we will go to Whitefall to receive our payment and get the _Bebop_ her crew back."

Henrietta looks over from glaring at Petra to see Hillshire nodding in approval "So, we can go to bed now?"

"Why is it we are doing this again?" Rico adds, gaining a stern glance from her sister.

"Because all of you were lazing about while the rest of the crew were planning this job out. I dont want anyone getting hurt this time." Victor answers plainly.

Triela snaps her head to glare at her father "HEY! I-"

"Not gorram likely none'v us'll get hurt Vic." Jayne grouses from the far side of the room, where he had been eating.

Victor just sighs,m and continues "Yes, you can all leave now. And I would recommend sleeping, tomorrow will be a long day after all." The girls all get up and make for the exit, but Victor catches his daughter, who had been unsurprisingly slow to stand from her position glaring at Cobb, considering how tired he can tell she is "Triela, I know what you want to do right now, but just let it go. You know what ends up happening when parts of a team go into a mission mad at each other."

Triela growls, turns her body so that it is angled towards the door, not the merc that had cut her off, and lightly stomps out "Night."

****Broken****

"Are you guys still up?" Rico asks as the door slides open.

Triela mumbles something incomprehensible, and Henrietta heaves a long-suffering sigh as the young blond flicks the light on "I am. What is it?"

A barely human groan cuts off any response Rico could make, then an incredibly groggy Triela asks "Why are we up so early?"

"Cant sleep." Rico answers plainly.

Triela pushes herself up enough to look at Rico, and opens her eyes just enough to see her before asking through an arm shielding her eyes "YOU get pre-mission jitters?"

The younger cyborg blushes, and replies "No... I'm just, well..."

Again, Henrietta sighs, as she slides out of her bed to walk over to her sister "The train, right. Your first time on one?"

The tan girl groans, and flops back down into her bed "Even though you wont set foot on it, your that worked up? And why did you come to us, what about your roommate?"

Rico shifts about on her feet, before answering "She's... in Sandros room again tonight."

Henrietta nods, before grabbing the hem of Rico's pajama shirt and pulling her towards the door "Lets let the Princess get her beauty sleep then, it'd be a shame if she was cranky in the morning." before grabbing her portable cortex link and dragging the younger blond out the door behind her.

"Why would she be cranky though, it isnt-" Henriettas hand covers the other girls mouth before she can finish the sentence, and the oblivious girl is pulled out of the room and to relative safety from herself before the thought can be finished.

The duo crosses the hallway in silence, enters the room, and Henrietta frowns. A bullet reloader, a few posters, some curtain rods laden with Petra's wardrobe "Its..."

"Not much. But it didnt feel right to put up the decorations I still have from our old room with you not in it." Rico finishes.

Henrietta nods, glances about, then plops down on the messier of the two beds "I mostly let Triela decorate our room." she reaches over to start tapping away at her Portable Cortex Uplink "Is Petra gone often?"

Rico walks over to fiddle with her bullet reloader, sorting supplies and checking the machine to make sure its in good shape "Most nights lately. Were they always this..."

Henrietta finishes mashing the combined playlists synonymous for 'relaxing' from the SWA staffs music libraries, on her PCU and hits play before replying "Overt? No. Sandro would have ended up dead, in jail or dead in jail if they had been."

Rico shrugs, and flops down onto the bed next to her sister, done checking her tools "I suppose yer right. Still, its not like no one didnt know."

Henrietta turns her head to look at her now slightly more relaxed sister "Yea, but, no one knew just how..."

"No, Vic an Tri cought'em out. Once, I dont think that was the only time either." Rico rebuts, lacing her fingers behind her head as she begins to kick her feet up and down instead of just letting them dangle off the bed.

'Etta giggles and replies "Your talkin like Jayne again."

Rico shrugs dismissively and giggles out "Not like your much better." a comfortable quiet falls between the girls for a few songs before the blond asks a bit groggily "Hows rooming with Triela?"

The brunette shrugs and curls up a bit, pulling some of her sisters sheets somewhat around her "Mostly good, but a bit scary when she's frustrated. I wonder how Claes managed it."

Rico shrugs, pushes back onto the bed all the way and violently yanks the sheets over the two of them "She was Claes." the blond pauses for a bit, yawns, and asks "Think Mal'd let us be roomies again?" Unfortunately, her sister has already dozed off, and the energy she had put into pulling the blankets over them had thrown the comforter off the bed. After a second of shivering, she scoots over to cuddle her sister, and finally starts to doze off.

****Broken****

A light chuckle almost wakes the two sleeping girls, almost "Up'n'at'em girls, we break atmo in 2 hours, mission starts half an hour after that." Mal shouts into the room

A few seconds after the door slides shut Rico disentangles herself from her sister and springs out of bed. She begins to shuck out of her PJ's as she makes her way to her mound of clothes, setting 'Etta to blushing as she starts to root through the pile for clean clothes "Rico!" she eventually stammers out.

The now mostly dressed blond turns to her sister "What? We've been roomates as long as I can remember, and shared a locker room and group shower at the agency just as long.", her dragon-print t-shirt dangling in her hand.

Henrietta peeks out from under the sheet, and sits back up, wrapping the cover around herself "That doesnt mean I want to see you undressing."

Rico scratches at the back of her head sheepishly after pulling her t-shirt on "ehhh, I suppose I forgot to warn you, didnt I?" forcing a chuckle at the clear breach of 'roommate etiquette' "Anything else?"

"I um... I don't have any clean cloths with me." she responds, regaining her composure "And everyone else is kinda..."

"Awake and walkin around now?" Rico finishes, turning to look at her sister and best friend as she pulls the hat Jayne had given her over her head "You need me to grab your clothes?" she asks as she walks towards the door, Henrietta just nods as she sits up on the bed, pulling the sheet around her "Need undies?"

The brunette pouts "I'm wearing mine. And just get something comfy, I'm flying until the shift after we finish the job."

Rico nods, and makes her way from the room, passing Triela on her way to her sisters shared room "Where do you think your going?" the older blond asks, having figured out Rico's destination at a glance.

"Etta needs me to grab her some clothes." Rico shoots back, unfazed by the older girls light glare, her stride unbroken.

She grabs a plain skirt and shirt at random before returning to her room, and tossing the aforementioned garments at her sister, the girl balks at the borderline clashing selection "Did you even look at what you took?"

Rico lifts Bessy, her MG3 from its rack and cheerily quips "Nope." as she grabs a rack holding eight drum magazines for the gun and again walks from the room. She makes her way to the common room, props her gun up next to Trielas M1897. She rehydrates some egg substitute, dumps some cheese substitute into the liquid slurry, and has an omelet in silence with the rest of the crew at a leisurely pace. Eventually she ambles into the cargo bay, where Jayne is strapping himself into the harness, and Kaylee is checking over the winch. "Ready ta rip the sky in half Tiny?"

Grinning, she nods,and slaps a magazine into her weapon as _Serenity_ begins to shake as she breaks atmo. Henrietta's voice crackles over the com, and booms over the roar of atmospheric entry "I have eyes on the target. 25 minutes to contact."

Triela and River stalk into the room, the former in fitted black jeans, a midnight blue v-neck blouse and her trenchcoat, knife and holstered H&K P7, hanging from her belt, shotgun slung over her shoulder. The latter sporting a spaghetti strap green sundress, long slits added to its sides, smg and reaver axe hanging lightly in her hands. "Always ready for a good smash'n'grab" Rico shoots back when regular conversation is possible again.

"Force Exfiltration, Rico." Hillshire corrects, as he leads Mal, Petra and Sandro in, clad in dark dress slacks, a plain button down shirt and his bullet-proof vest, Calahan Automatic slung over his shoulder.

Rico shrugs as Henrietta starts counting down feet from the target "Same difference."

Mal shakes his head in an attempt to hide his amusement "Not that I dont approve of confident banter, but dont you have a torch to be priming Jayne?" from his spot leaning up against the pool table, clad in his usual 'on a job' clothes.

Jayne groans, and makes his way over to the winch "We aint even close to the target yet Mal."

"An you getting that torch set is all we have left to do." Kaylee adds, backing away from the winch to sit on the stairs leading up and out of the bay.

River, Petra and Triela find seats on the floor up against the wall of the cargo bay as River quips "Blowing up the trains roof isnt in the plan, but it _would_ work..." as Petra sits down with them.

Jayne freezes, checks over the feed valve he had just glossed over, then pulls it off to replace it "Ruttin creepifyin feng le readers" he mutters, before grousing more loudly "Dont you keep the tools up Kaylee?"

"Aint in the habit of cutting into _Serenity_ is all." she shoots back a bit crossly "Your the one to use it most, you should keep it up."

Rico tilts her head to the side, her hats tassels brushing against her shoulders "Its a good way to pass the time when theres nothing else to do, even if you dont use them though."

Victor pinches the bridge of his nose "Like playing 'who can be louder' with the couple your room shares a wall with all night?" more than a little annoyance lacing his voice. Kaylee at least has the good graces to blush at being caught out. Sandro just shrugs, and Petra squawks in protest when Triela dusts off the back of her head, and River elbows her gut from the other side. The blonds expression matching her fathers mask of disapproval, the brunette simply rolling her eyes.

Jayne grins "Reckon I will keep the torch then. Use it a good sight more than you anyways."

"Same rules for that as for grenades Cobb. Not on a job less I say so." Mal orders sternly enough to keep the friendly banter from escalating beyond that at the expense of his most senior 'public relations' officer.

Jayne opens his mouth to retort through the sudden sea of giggles and snickers, but Henrietta's voice cuts him off "Five minutes to target."

The seasoned mercenary side of Cobb shoves the slow joker aside as he growls out "Keep to the plan, and your heads low, Rico an'I'll be yer angels iffin ya need." as he stands up to connect his harness to the winches hook.

Mal nods his agreement as Henrietta announces "Two minutes." Kaylee opens the hatch and Jayne steps out into empty air as calmly as he would through a bars front door.

****Broken****

River is been the first out after Jayne, swan diving towards the trains front while Jayne is still only halfway back up. Triela simply waits for Henrietta to re-align the hatch with the hole in the train car and drops, landing just as River comes out of her roll. The adrenaline of the drop, and seeing her friend leap so recklessly causing her to miss the painful jolt she would usually associate with a much longer drop "A bit flashy Riv." she quips as she draws her M1897 and blasts the door in front of her off of its hinges.

River shrugs, and a bit detachedly replies "Effective." before darting around the corner, smg blazing away. Triela sighs and begins to advance herself, taking opportunistic blasts with her own weapon, having come to trust that her companion will always have her blindside covered, and never get in her way over the course of the last job.

With surprise as their ally, the pair doesnt even need to break stride as they clear the first car from the insertion point. A handful of corpses and bullet-scarred walls the only sign of their passing as Triela slaps the button to unlock all the cells in the car "What the hell! They just arent stopping!" a guard exclaims as he scrambles to find cover, clearly on the verge of routing from the sudden assault, a deep gash in his limp right arm marking him as a survivor of Rivers half of their onslaught.

Triela pauses, squares off her feet and shoulders, plants her left hand on her hip as she levels her shotgun at the guard "Of course we arent stopping! Who the hell do you think we are!?"

"Triela," Victors voice cracks over the radio. The cyborg puffs up, as if expecting some new moniker to be assigned her "Language."

She flushes and ducks to the side as return fire finally begins to zip down the hallway. "Dad! We're smugglers! Criminals! Killers sometimes for gods sake!"

Grinning mirthfully, River darts back out into the corridor behind Trielas trio of retaliatory shots "That doesnt mean we have to lose our sense of propriety." Triela growls, and steps out to advance herself as River ducks back into a cell doors alcove, firing her shotgun from her hip.

"Coming from the guy who was joking about half the crew staying up all night screwing?" she shoots back over the radio.

"She was trying to get some of the prisoners to help on our end with that stunt Hillshire." River adds airily as the blond ducks into the alcove across from her, rifle-fire from behind them keeping the guards barring their way suppressed. "It worked."

"Stunt?" Victor intones darkly, the distinctive ping of bullets striking metal obvious in the background.

"Bi-Zu! We're workin a job." Mals voice cuts in, leaving no room for argument or backtalk. Triela leans out to put a blast from her freshly reloaded weapon into a guards chest before ducking back for River to leap across the train-car diagonally to bury her ax in a second guards chest. By the time two more sets of cells are cleared the guards are again routing from the car.

The next car clears just as easily, Triela strides forward almost haughtily behind a pair of harassing shots and slaps the button to open all the cells at the front of the car. "Well this is..." a husky voice begins to quip, pausing to amend itself mid-stream "exactly the rescue I had been hoping for actually. Hello ladies." the voices owner steps calmly from the car closest to Triela, his drab gray prisoners jumpsuit doing little to hide his lean muscular frame, messy, unkempt mane of black hair giving him a roguish air. With as much ease as he had greeted his rescuers, he steps forward and delivers a high-kick to the guard rushing towards the freshly liberated cars chin, dropping him.

The mystery man launches into an acrobatic display of martial arts amidst the first counter-attackers companions, leaving the two girls to watch him dumbfoundedly "Mine." River declares.

"No way." Triela shoots back as she reloads her weapon.

River rolls her eyes as they step over the incapacitated guards "Saw him first." dropping to a whisper as they pass into earshot of the man.

Triela casts a sidelong glare at her friend "Only cause I was watching the car in front of us."

Rivers very own 'your such a boob' look comes out to play as she deadpans "Poorly". A burst of rifle-fire puts an abrupt end to the girls little spat, and forces the trio at the forefront of the group of freed prisoners to dive for cover. The teenage girl part of Trielas mind immediately looses all cohesion of thought and starts panicking. Mostly due to the small size of the alcove necessitates that she and the exemplary specimen of the male form share borderline intimate levels of proximity to keep to cover.

Luckily, she is on a job, so the trained agent has her body firmly under control, and she is able to fell one of the guards that had fired upon them, and send the other diving for cover, weapon abandoned. "Gorramit 'Etta, hold the ship steady, I cant hit a thing with you swerving so much." the radio crackles as Triela ducks back into cover just ahead of more return fire.

"If you would do your job, I wouldn't have to swerve to keep _Serenity_ from getting filled with holes Rico." Triela focuses on her young friends voice to keep from hyperventilating as his scent makes its way to the tan cyborgs abnormally sensitive nostrils.

"Got the ha-dun with the MG, even us out so Rico can bail River an Triela out in forward car four." Jayne growls out. Seconds later the thunder of 'Bessy' the MG3 tears through the roof, and into the opposition, allowing Triela to step back out into danger where her head can clear.

A few shotgun blasts later, and they are back on the move. River steps out from her cover and adds her own rattling cadence of .45acp rounds to their advance towards the engine. By the halfway point, a strained female voice shouts over the roar of gunfire "What doesn't the captain keep?" as a pair of handguns are tossed from the alcove in front of them.

Triela pauses, and holds up a fist, hoping the mercs behind her understand the silent order, and shouts back what was supposed to be their contacts reply to the query that had just been offered "The Faith!" First a head peeks out, then the rest of Faye Valentines body leaves cover, her demeanor clearly speaking to a clear car. "Your a car early." Triela accuses.

"And your twenty minutes ahead of schedule." she shoots back tersely.

The man that had added himself to the vanguard shifts back and forth on his feet, a smirk crosses his face, forcing Triela and River to suddenly inspect the cells closest to them "Am I missing something here?"

Fayes gaze locks on the man, and she begins to storm towards him "Just What The Hell Were You Thinking Spike Spiegel?" slapping him hard enough to send him to the floor as soon as she is close enough.

"I was just doing what had to be done Faye. Jeeze." He defends himself, rubbing his cheek as he stands back up.

Faye doesn't let up though, her face inches from his almost the whole way up "What had to be done? Like back on Londinium when you damn near got yourself killed going after Vicious?"

Spike doesnt back down, and neither combatant notices the two girls and gaggle of recent inmates shamelessly gawking as he rebuts "The bastard had Ed."

Faye growls and spits back "And all you could come up with was a plan so hair-brained I had to loose you again?" as much concern as anger on her face.

Spike just smirks, now back to his full height, he leans down to plant a kiss on the lavender haired womans forehead, dodge her slap, and quip "But you didnt." scooping up a gun as he begins to move towards the front of the train. Faye sets off to chase mere seconds later, shouting insults the bounty-hunters way.

"Gorramit." Triela starts

"Hers" River finishes as they set off to follow the over-eager, under-armed pair in front of them.

****Broken****

Victor scowls and wipes the blood from his cheek. Of course he would be the only one to get any sort of injury from the job. The gash on his cheek isnt terribly deep, and he knows that the shard of wall turned to shrapnel only glanced off. He leans out from behind the crate he had been using as cover and sends a three shot burst towards the veritable fortress that is the rear guard-car. Its the premise of his injury that has him bothered, that and Jayne will likely be relentless about it. "You fine folk wouldnt'a happened to bring some grenades with you when ya left to rescue us poor mercs, would you?" one of the liberated mercenaries that had decided to help asks from his cover one crate over from Vic.

The german shakes his head "We were out."

"Out." the mercenary deadpans, before standing up just enough to squeeze off a few shots from his looted handgun at the last few remaining guards. "Set off to run a jailbreak on a train and dont think to make sure your topped off on explodables?"

Victor grimaces, the man had been one of the first freed, and excruciatingly caustic since minute one. "I take it you didnt hear about what happened on Greenleaf then?" Venom dripping from her voice.

The merc looks over at Petras boobs and quips "Been rottin in a cell sweety, course I aint heard."

A loud crack signifies another guard fallen to Veera, and forces Mal to repeat "We took an old 'liance fort... from all comers." before he stands up and sens half of his pistols magazine downrange, felling another guard.

The caustic mercenary rolls his eyes "Sounds impressive."

"Stay low and grab hold of something, front guard cars about to got boom." Triela announces over the radio. Victor remains silent as the annoying mercenary stands, and a blast rocks the train, throwing the man forward, and into an oversized steel tank of what looked to be fuel of some sort headfirst.

"What the ruttin-" the merc hugs the ground as the crew all stand up and unleash a hail of bullets, felling most of the remaining guards. "Right radio. Would it'a killed ya ta warn me?"

"We surrender! Dont shoot!" a guard shouts from behind the remnants of a chair he is trying to use as cover.

Petra rises and makes her way into the guard car, the merc watching her the whole way "Didnt feel inclined to, seeing as the girl your eyballin has a man, and he happens to be crew too." Mal replies as inertia begins to slow the car down.

Victor waits for the crack of a guns butt meeting a skull before adding "Not that she needs the protecting. Its the precedent really."

"Signalled the _Brutus,_ their fifteen minutes out." Henriettas voice announces over the radio as the now un-powered cars finally roll to a stop.

"Lead cars arent slowing." Triela announces calmly., before a scuffling and a yelped protest takes over the line.

A higher pitched, overly cheery voice cuts in "Purple-urples are calling for heEEEelp. Time to run now!"

The radio goes dead for a few minutes, before Henrietta finally interjects "I... I did notice a coded signal from the lead car. Touching down next to whats left of the guard car Triela blasted in half."

Victor freezes mid-step "She what?"

An unmistakeably distant voice chimes in "Wasnt her idea. It was Radicals."

Before Victor can press his line of questioning the sounds of a scuffle again take over the radio, first a demented cackle, then a low growl, then "Big sis! Big gun! Eds plan, Big old booms on the bad jai~ltrain!"

"Give that back you little brat!" Trielas voice cuts off the newcomer, more than a little anger lacing her scream. Victor shakes his head, and presses back towards the front of the part of train they fully liberated from the alliance.

"Anything worth keepin on that train Mal?" Jayne shouts as Victor steps past river, and off of the jagged remnants of the leading guard car to the sight of his daughter chasing around a redhead that looks to be about Rico and Henriettas age, though with Trielas skin tone.

The captain shrugs "Sundries an ammo in the supply cars we got. Top us off, nothin extra." Mal orders as the _Brutus_ touches down.

"Two Alliance Fast Attack Ships just showed on radar. We have 15 minutes at their current speed." Henrietta announces on the radio, a bit of panic in her voice.

Everything seems to freeze for a moment, until Mal barks out "You heard the girl, we got ten minutes to be gone!" before he quietly curses "Hao yun bu lai, huai yun bu jwo." a decade of age seemingly slamming onto his face as Triela snatches her radio earpiece back from Ed and makes to help her father, Jayne and Rico loot supplies from the train.

* * *

><p>Hao yun bu lai, huai yun bu jwo: things never go smooth (literally 'good luck dont come, bad luck dont go')<p>

Alliance Fast Attack Ship: their arrival is commonly cited as one of the big reasons the Independents lost. Alot of that is the terrible things they did to Firefly gunboats, which the independents were using for the same role.


	13. Chapter 13

A/N: No, I dont own Firefly/Serenity, if I did it would still be on TV. No, I dont own Gunslinger Girl, if I did, it would have had enough anime eps to cover the whole manga. No, I dont own Cowboy Bebop, if I did... screw it, you guys get the trend by now.

A/N 2: yea, suummer was ccrazy, but hey, I'm back in the saddle now (muse going after a few other random fics aside)

JackMatrix: Thanks, and yea, I absolutely love writing the Jayne/Rico dynamic, guess it shows, heh.

Word Addict 620: Yea, took me a bit to not Rodger Rabit it myself, heh. and dont worry, I have three more arcs plannedf once the current one wraps up. I plan to keep all my readers entertained for quite a while.

crimsonkatana: that sounds like an awesome idea... but I only got 3/4thsish of the way through ME1 before my gamers ADD hit, lol. I'd say that you have a plan, and should go for it though.

taerkitty: Yea, I will admit to having written a bit too much of show not tell. I have been wanting to go back an do a clean-up of the early chapters for a while now, and I did kinda rush chap 1 out out of anger at the New Trino series ender, heh. To be honest, I didnt realize that I could take fans of one franchise and introduce them to the amzingness of the other until recently (your review(s) actually, heh.) finally, looking back at the scene in chapter 2 you mentioned, yea, I dropped the ball in Mal's court. Hope you were able to struggle past my weaker early chapters.

* * *

><p>Mal frowns deeply as the cargo bay door closes with <em>Serenitys<em> ascent, Jayne half a step behind him with a crate of officers rations. He looks over his crew, River going moon-eyed at the same slow rate Trielas face is flushing, both clearly coming down from the rush of the job. The grin on Spikes face and scowl on Fayes as the woman shoves Spikes cheap blue suit in his direction which the bounty hunter immediately goes about changing into cluing him in to the typically Zoe-like teenagers damaged calm. Petra is making her way up the stairs out of the cargo bay, where Sandro is waiting for her, while Simon looks over a quietly cursing Vic's cut face. Jayne is sorting through the ration boxes he took a bit more thoroughly, next to Rico, who is unloading the pockets of her cargo pants onto the crates of ammo she had lifted. The last of the rescued _Bebop_ crew, Edward, is... crawling around on all fours, periodically spouting gibberish. Great. Mal heaves a sigh and deals with it the way Jet had the one time Mal saw the expert hacker acting like this before "PACK IT IN ED!" he bellows, before adding "We're on the dodge as of five minutes ago, an if the Feds catch us we're humped. So get yer rear end up to the cockpit and see if you cant help us get outa here."

Ed freezes, blinks, and her posture shifts to one more commonly attributed to a normal, sane person. She nods and jogs up the stairs to the rest of the ship, and presumably to the cockpit, leaving Triela, Spike and Faye to gape "How the ruttin hell did he pull that off? I've only ever saw Jet pull that off when Ed's panicking" Spike eventually manages to loudly whisper to his girl.

"Its the voice, authoritative, no-nonsense, and experienced." Faye replies matter-of-factly as she holds up a sheet she had in her bag, seemingly for the sole purpose of helping her own crewmates change back into their normal clothes.

Spike begins to change, causing River and Triela to beat a hasty, crimson-faced retreat, and Mal to shout "River, yer cleanin that gorram axe before you get past the scaffolding or your on septic for a month! It's drippin blood all over again!"

Spike chuckles as River hastily wipes her blade, and follows her tanned friend out of the cargo bay, and the man replies "So, the 'captainy' voice then?"

Faye nods her head, and drops the sheet as Spike finishes pulling his pants on "You noticed it?"

"Notice and do anything about are two different things." he replies nonchalantly as he starts pulling the rest of his suit on.

Mal shakes his head "Ed I can understand, but you two just carryin on without so much as a thanks for us savin your sorry rear ends?"

Victor swats Jaynes hand away from the gash on his cheek while Simon tries to clean it, as Spike shrugs into his suit jacket and answers "Thought the thanks went without saying. None of us are keen on rottin in a cell."

"So, none've us'll get tagged iffin we keep to the plan?" Jayne finally grouses after Victor once again bats the mercs hand away.

Hillshire starts to growl at the other man, but Simon finally getting to apply the alcohol swab to sterilize the cut turns it to a hiss before the man shoots back "It was shrapnel, a freak accident."

The merc leans back, grinning wolfishly "Still, yer the one said none we care for'll get hurt, and yer the one bleedin."

Victors gaze hardens even further as the turbulence of breaking atmo prevents any reply for a moment, then the German shoots back "You sound almost glad that one of us got hurt."

Jayne starts to walk away from his crewmate and tosses "Nah, just glad that it wasnt me or Mal getting shot like usual is all."

"Captain, the AFAS are gaining on us fast." Henrietta's voice crackles over the intercom.

Mal slaps the button to patch his voice through to the cockpit "Go full burn till the _Brutus_ is clear, then drop Navsat Decoys and hit the Pulse Drive."

****Broken****

"Just needed your go-ahead captain" Henrietta replies, throttling up beyond the redline. She frowns when she notices that the pair of 'Shinigami' Fast Attack Ships are now merely pacing _Serenity_ as opposed to gaining on her. The _Brutus_ being the largest and slowest of the four craft is just barely breaking atmo. As the bat-like aggressors throttle up to again gain on S_erenity _and the _Brutus _Henrietta begins to mentally run through what maneuvers could shake the alliance vessels, all but missing the sound of someone dropping into the co-pilots seat. As _Serenity_ begins to shake from long range shots bursting nearby, but the well placed shots never hitting she mutters "Purple-bellied-"

"Nope!" a peppy voice cuts off her curse. Henrietta looks over to see a girl about her age, with Triela's complexion, and an untamed, greasy mop of bright red hair, brown eyes glued to the data read-out "Not Alliance, IFF's are really reeeaaaaaly bad fakes." she pauses, tilts her head in a very Rico-esque manner, and adds "Wiring and coding looks like the engines and guns arent stock. I'd call'em mark 2 or something, but their both different." she pauses again and, shooting a pointer finger straight up into the air exclaims "Bandits! Gangsters! Worse criminals than us!" with an excess of exuberance.

Henrietta looks over to the mystery co-pilot she had just gained, notices her ill-fitting gray prisoners jumpsuit, and asks "Who are you?"

"Radical Edward, former second best Data-Diver in the verse!" she exclaims as one of the Shinigami goes to full burn itself and buzzes the cockpit, rapidly moving to cut off the _Brutus_ "Oohh, bandit colors too." she pauses, smacks a handful of keys on the copilots board, grabs a microphone and exclaims "Attention bandits! The other transport is a blu~ff! This ship has the _Bebops _crew! You know, the crew your boss wanted more'n all the rest together?"

Henrieta looks over at Ed, more than a bit of venom in her eyes, and demands "What are you doing?" as the second AFAS wheels away from the _Brutus_ clearly intent on taking the juicier prize now.

The hacker shrugs, and continues tapping away at the screen, she opens her mouth to reply, but the sound of the _Brutus' _captain crackles over her response "Thanks for the assist _Serenity_, we wouldnt'a made it away from them. Droppin NAVSAT decoys soon as we're clear ta jump."

"You should be able to do all the tricky maneuvers a Firefly can without asking Kaylee to move the engine around now, I hacked the electronics and patched them through to your console." Edward quips offhandedly, before pulling a seemingly random song from the wealth of music the combined members of the SWA had acquired before being iced Serenities new pilot had saved before the computers were sold. The pair of Shinigami begin forcing her back towards the planet, again bracketing the transport with long range cannon-fire.

Henrietta glances to her left, notices the screen Edward had up, cover art she doesnt recognize and 'Turisas – Supernaut' for text, then scowls a bit as she notices an Alliance Short Range Enforcement Vessels distinct swallow-tailed form pushing up from atmo. She ignores the officious, drab voice of the officer piloting the approaching enforcement vessel, taps the ships internal comm and announces "Everyone might want to brace on something." and angling _Serenity_ towards the planet... without decreasing her speed. _Serenity_ all but slams into Salisburys outer atmosphere, the ships groaning drowning out the sound of everything not secured being thrown about, then rebounds away from the planet. Trusting the crimson-haired hackers skills, she sets up for and executes Crazy Ivan, rotating the ship fully one-hundred and eighty degrees, and allowing her to see gravity claim the Shinigami that had been directly behind them and begin to shake violently.

The sound ofr Ed tapping away at her control panel again fills the cockpit after Henrietta silences the myriad of warning alarms that began blaring after the hard impact with the atmosphere, and the comm-line bearing Kaylees confused, worried, angry curses. Henrietta stops the reversed engine halfway on its traverse back to its natural alignment, putting the ship into a sideways barrel-roll, and neatly dodging the cannon-fire headed their way, and as the ship is still partly using the planets gravity, throwing more unsecured objects around. The young teenage girl gapes a bit as the ship that had moments earlier been flanking them continues to fire, striking its stricken companion, and turning a sloppy, desperate attempt at recovery into an uncontrolled free-fall after unlucky; or lucky, perspective considered, engine hit. "Got yer gun!" Edward exclaims, answering Henriettas question before it can form on her lips, and taunting the surviving bandit over an open frequency. The hackers, good, she has to give her that. Henrietta drops the decoy beacons, activates the Crybaby, and _Serenity_ slips away from Salisbury to a random point out in the black to set up the second leg of her trip to Whitefall unmolested as the dying Shinigamis smaller, more advanced successor is forced to bank hard to avoid its falling, burning hulk.

****Broken****

If excrement were a delicacy, Henriettas grin is still one perfect for dinnertime, and they had made good their escape over an hour ago now. "So, you girls wanna room together again?" Mal clarifies, satisfied that Rico at least looks appropriately apprehensive, or as close to the emotion he has seen her in a while.

The latter nods enthusiastically "My dorms lonely with Petra in by Sandro all the time and..."

Mal waves his hand, cutting the rest of her reasoning off "Iffin Petra'll let the switch go its fine by me long as your done with the whole suicide business you were on earlier. Aint none'a my business who sleeps where, that aside." before pausing, gaze holding steady on the brunette "You might wanna make peace with Kaylee before you start moving furniture, gave her a mighty start and plenty of cause for anger the way you manhandled _Serenity_ around during our escape."

"But, it was Edward that set us up for that maneuver." Henrietta argues, a bit of timidity sneaking into what had been a downright bombastic voice when she and her best friend and sister had started pitching their idea of rooming together again at him.

Mal rolls his eyes "I'm sure Kaylee'll love to hear that it was all the hackers fault."

"The one that was half crazy at the time?" Rico prompts, earning a betrayed pout from her sister.

Mal nods sagely "The very same. Heard she passed out not long after we cleared to FTL." he turns his head back towards Henrietta, body not shifting from its reclined position at the table in the dining room "Ed only gave you the tools. You're the one that didn't let Kaylee, who you knew was in the engine room, more than a few seconds heads up. You're also the one that knocked more parts loose on _Serenity_ loose than we've had trouble with since we sold them guns to Haymer after findin you."

"But-"

Mal cuts off the cyborgs rebuttal with a heavy sigh. At least their acting like kids not killers, he thinks to himself as he asks "Did she force you to do a Crazy-Ivan and a half without letting the engineer know bits were about to start moving? Or to bounce the ship off the upper atmosphere of a planet at full burn?" Of course, the brunette has no rebuttal to this. Mal nods, and adds "If Kaylee adds many more breaks to the list you'll be helpin her fix it all as punishment. She's only got the one set of hands after all."

Rico glances about awkwardly, before interjecting "So..."

Mal waves "Go, find Petra an Sandro, knock first and ask. Only have an hour or so before we need to change course to actually get to Whitefall as opposed to Athens. And Triela sittin with'er or no, Rivers never sane enough after a job that ended in bloodshed for me to trust her with setting coordinates. You need to be back in your chair 'Etta... after a showing like that I'm glad I gave you the job. Did an outstanding job today, even with the mess you made of the ship." The duo scampers out, and Mal almost feels sorry for Henrietta, knowing that Kaylee is only half finished with her forced diagnostic, and the rate she is finding new problems at hasnt started to slow down.

Spike slips into the common room a few seconds after _Serenitys_ youngest crew leave, hands jammed into his pockets, unlit cigarette hanging in his mouth, eyebrow cocked "When did you start a daycare Mal?" he asks as he drops into a seat opposite the captain.

Mal sighs, shakes his head and answers "When I found a sleeper ship from Earth That Was, and a few sleepers woke up."

Spike shrugs "How much did they pay?"

"Let us ransack the cargo hold for antiques to sell, even been helping with the jobs." Mal answers plainly, keeping one eye on the cigarette as if it will spontaneously light itself.

Spike leans forward, more than a bit of fire creeping into his eyes "Wait, you mean you hired the whole lot on? River I can understand, but these girls? Doing our sort of work?"

Mal doesn't rise to the unspoken accusation, just fires back "Like you all let Ed hunt bounties?"

"She doesnt get into firefights, hardly ever leaves _Bebop_ for her part of most jobs. That blonde was barely Rivers age, if that." Faye shoots back as she saunters into the room "And on top of that its painfully obvious that you let the littler blond hang around Jayne to much, I felt like she was gonna grab my ass the way she looked me over."

Mal groans out a long suffering "Ta da me" before shaking his head as if to clear it and rebutting "And its not new work to them. The whole lot got frozen down because they were a black ops and wetwork agencies best tools. Any one of them have confirmed kill lists longer than any two of us combined I'd reckon."

"That doesnt exactly make it right Mal." Spike rebuffs, his opinion of the captain visibly and clearly dropping along with Fayes with each passing second as she sits down next to him.

Mals gaze hardens as he stares the other man down, before shooting back "I gave them all the choice, 'Etta even took it. Besides, when its all you know..."

"All they know!? I dont care how long the scum that turned them into weapons started training them, you have to have some memory of growing up, of family." Faye all but screams, leaping to her feat.

"They wiped our memories when they used the cyborg tech to save us from death." Triela interjects plainly and matter-of-factly as she walks into the room, clearly having calmed down a bit from the flustered state Spike had left her in during the mission and Edwards own special brand of insanity "And honestly, I'm glad, knowing just how dark most of the stories that left us all on deaths doorstep are."

"They wiped your memories? How?" Spike manages to ask after a few moments of silence, during which the twin-tailed girl had leaned up against the doorway.

Mal inwardly heaves a sigh of relief as Triela shrugs and answers "Hypnosis and drugs I think, you'd have to ask the Doc." she pauses, then adds "And if you have any questions about us, just ask next time." downplaying her knowledge of the process massively for effect.

Faye finally snaps out of her own mild shock, and whips her head about to direct her glare at the younger woman "They took the entirety of your childhood memories, and your fine with that?"

Triela rolls her eyes, closes them and with a practiced detached calmness rebuts "I'm sure I'll never recover from the loss of my memories of being sold off by a child trafficking ring and starring in a snuff film." channeling her inner Claes as hard as she can "Whatever will I do without the psycological trauma associated with being raped and tortured nearly to death at such a young age?" That stops what was left of Fayes rant cold, as her face pales, her eyes widen and features melt to ashamed, stunned shock "Spike, Jaynes lookin for a game of pool, and Simons cooking enough of Kaylees favorites to feed everyone from the look of it iffin any of you are hungry." the girl announces after a few minutes of silence, before turning to leave.

The silence rains long enough for Mal to overhear Vic asking in a hushed tone "Was that necessary?" from beyond the open bulkhead and around a corner.

With barely a pause the mans daughter replies "It helped the captain explain us to some allies, and saved one of the others less at peace with the story of their past from having to resort to the only thing likely to make'em understand."

"At peace?" Victor hisses back.

Triela hesitates for a moment, and replies "I dont have the nightmares or flashbacks some of the others did, and while I may not be happy about my past I thank God every day that I dont have to live with the memories and..."

The voices finally fade away, and Spike pushes up from his chair, announcing "Pool sounds good." Mal nods, and rises himself to follow the man, making a mental note to thank the father/daughter team for bailing his sorry rear out later.

****Broken****

Triela may not have been the SWA's earliest riser, but she had grown used to having an hour or two of solitude in the morning long ago. That is why the sight of one Radical Edward, settled into a lotus pose on the floor of the common room is more than enough to give her a start, and prevent her from entering said room. Bumping into a certain messy-haired bounty hunter almost has her crying out. "Suprised?" Spike asks the slack-jawed cyborg, who manages to nod in response. He shrugs, leans against the wall and continues "A few days after Faye chased me an Jet off Bebop to talk with Ed, she started poking at her belly. Apparently a data-divers lifestyles a bit sedentary to keep a girlish figure, even one as rambunctious as her. Faye mentioned Yoga, Ed took to it like a fish to water. Mostly the sort of advanced poses that keep you in shape and flexible."

"So she's warming up then?" Triela asks in a hushed tone so as to not disturb the redhead.

Spike shakes his head "Last time I saw her like she was yesterday was before she left us to help her pa map Black Worlds with breathable atmo." he shakes his head "Cant exactly blame her for going all but feral again."

Triela leans up against the other side of the door, Hillshires training quickly taking over "Feral?"

He nods "Yup. She ran away from her Pa, or maybe he left'er behind real young. Raised herself mostly. Feral. Came back from her second run with him mostly civilized, and all the meditating Faye turned'er on to only helped."

Triela scoffs "Yet a few hours on a prison train sends it all to hell?"

Spike shoots a truly brutal glare at Triela, one from one professional to another "I'm sorry, but for a girl without your... past, the prospect of being shipped off to a prison at 14 is unsettling." his voice is as cold as steel, no trace of the man that had spent an entire jailbreak tugging and poking at what amounts to a schoolgirls crush the day before gone "And not just a prison, a co-ed prison all but owned by the gangster sending us there for revenge."

"Unless things have really changed in the last few hundred years, a kid like her should be pretty safe." Triela half-heartedly tries to defend her stance.

Spike pinches the bridge of his nose "What part of owned by a gangster that bought himself a governors seat didn't you hear? She wouldn't be in a cell block with the sort of criminals that have families or kids. And she certainly wouldn't be anywhere near me." he pauses and levels his gaze at Triela again "So yes, the prospect of being passed around like a wet rag being raped until some scumbag _did_ get found out by the sort of prisoner that shanks pedophiles off precedent, then murdered by one of the others out of spite before they get him as well putting her into a bit of a relapse to a prior, less civilized mindset is understandable." he heaves a sigh "She'll be fine again by breakfast. And that was all confidential, I spent all night arguing my way _out_ of the doghouse over teasing you an River over those crushes, and dont want to spend another few days in it for telling personal information like that without asking Ed first."

Now its Trielas turn to scoff "With the sort of histories most of us had, any sort of personal information was held in trust reflexively."

The pair continues on to the dining room in silence, Spike breaks it as they fill their cups of coffee "So, what exactly did you do?"

Triela shrugs "Investigative work mostly. Close quarters combat when things went pear-shaped."

Spike chuckles "Mal plans his jobs?"

Triela cracks a grin as she takes a sip "No, Pa an me do now, Sandro helps every so often."

"The pedophile?" Spike bristles

Triela shakes her head "He lasted longer than most would have with a girl like her throwing herself at him."

Spike scoffs, blows a bit on his still steaming mug and replies "So a strong willed pedo."

"In a few months it'll just be a creepy age gap. Plus with the way Gen 2's get conditioned its pretty obvious that nothing was forced." The blonde offers, still defending her co-workers turned friends.

Spike tilts his head as he sets his mug down "How so?"

Triela snickers "Even thinking about disobeying their handler was enough to send a gen 2 to the nearest waste basket." Spike winces, opens his mouth, only to be cut off "And before you say she's just young and doesnt know any better, Sandro an her specialize in the sort of work that requires being able to read body language and figure people out." Spike is however to pick up her mumbled aside of "I still think they moved too goram fast for their own good."

Spike decides to let the topic drop at that, and simply finishes his coffee. Only after sliding the empty mug across the table does he ask "So, close quarters specialist?" Triela nods, still absorbed in her own "Just guns or..."

Triela cracks a grin as she pushes up out of her chair "If your searching for a spar you could just come out and ask me. Its not like your asking me on a date or anything." she tosses over her shoulder as she makes for the cargo bay.

Spike makes a noise somewhat akin to a cat being strangled, before shaking his head clear and rising to follow the girl, smirking. _Turnabout is fair play after all_. By the time he catches up with the girl, a few mats had already been spread out across the cargo bay, Trielas blush from the excessively forward comment gone, and a small pile consisting of her belt, knife, and some other assorted odds and ends that could get unnecessarily pokey in a proper spar on the pool table. Spike empties his pockets onto the weight bench, and moves to join the cyborg in stretching. "So, any rules?"

"Keep it clean." is all the cyborg replies "And seeing as I'm working off a cludge of a few different schools and forms, you may as well use everything you know as well."

Spike nods as he comes out of his last bit of stretching "How long ya wanna go?" as he settles into an almost relaxed looking stance.

Triela cocks an eyebrow, at what could be an indicator of a man trained in Jeet Kun Do, and shoots back "Till we're done." as she settles into her more crisp, military ready stance. After a few seconds, she starts the spar by rushing the older man, ready to deliver a low punch.

Spike shifts to the side of Trielas opening strike, a bit taken aback as he delivers a swift chop to the back of her neck, which the girl totally ignores. Triela snaps a high kick out at him, which he leans back to avoid, answering with an uppercut as he returns to a fully upright position. Triela brushes the blow aside with her right hand and throws a quick retaliatory jab at Spike with her left; a blow he sidesteps. Not pausing for more than a moment to contemplate her bull-like fighting style, he takes advantage of his sidelong position to the girl to throw an elbow her way, which she ducks under. As the girl rises she launches into an aggressive flourish of jabs and sweeps that would be more useful with a knife in her hand, and, when he is forced to block the third blow in the series with his forearm, he immediately understands why she fights the way she does. She hits like a gorram truck.

Spike hides shaking out his arm in a swift backpedal to avoid the next few right favoring strikes, before sweeping in at her left side with a storm of light jabs and pushes. The girl backpedals a few steps, dodging Spikes aggression until she is properly positioned to halt his momentum by snapping her forearm up to intercept his. Again, Spike wheels back to avoid her counter, though he does decide that blocking with his legs may be more in his interest from this point out if he wants to not have purple arms for the next week.

****Broken****

Rico looks up from her dresser re-arranging as a voice usually too polite to so much as say something mean ripping off "Dio dannati inutile pezzo di merda ripartito pezzo di metallo fottuto puttana!"

The blonde looks up to her once-again roommate, covered in grease, hydraulic fluids, scrapes and bruises from head to toe. The old gym uniform she had worn when she set out to help Kaylee is ruined, the white t-shirt stained varying shades of black, yellow and red, and torn in more than a few places, shorts covered in dirt and grime; her hair is matted with sweat and oil "Didnt like helpin Kaylee then?"

Henrietta levels an irritated glare at the other girl, and silently makes her way to her bed, then steps back as she takes a whiff of herself "I'm taking a bath, and we need chairs for our room."

Rico nods in agreement, before sliding the last drawer shut "Maybe they'll have something on Whitefall?"

Henrietta heaves a sigh "You'll have to look yourself then. Cap'n said I have to help Kaylee with all the repairs from what I broke, so..."

Rico pouts as she puts her hand on the ladder leading up and out of their shared bunk "So you'll be on repair duty all day probably."

Henrietta nods as she peels out of her t-shirt and moves to pull the basin she would have to use to clean herself off to a clear spot in the room, then, realizing Rico was still in the room pauses to add "Out. You gorram perv."

Grinning, Rico quips "Why do you gotta make it awkward?"

Henrietta sighs "Because, somethings been different about you since Jayne took you to that strip club."

As she slowly starts to climb out, Rico absentmindedly asks "Which ti-" before abruptly cutting herself off and looking away.

Henriettas flashes to a predatory grin "I wont tell Mal, but you owe me. I'll let you know when I'm collecting."

"Only a body." Rico mutters as she climbs out of the bunk. She is still grumbling about the hypocrisy of none of the other former SWA members being accused of having changed by the time she reaches the cargo bay, hoping for a game of pool.

Before she can really see whats going on down on the floor, she hears a drained Spike announce "I cant feel my legs... I dont think I'll be able to walk straight for a week."

Rico peeks her head over the catwalk, and sees a sweaty and exhausted Spike sprawled out on a mat, Triella similarly resting a bit away from him, both red-faced and panting "Faye's gonna get jealous, isnt she?" she interjects.

Triela looks up to glare at the younger girl "Shut up Rico, we were sparring." before turning to look at Spike "Your the one that decided to only block with your legs a few exchanges in."

Spike groans, ignoring Rico entirely as she makes her way down the main floor "The alternative was broken arms. You girls hit like trucks." he pauses "And what happened to a light morning spar?"

Triela cracks a grin "We know. And for us, that _was_ light, its still before the middle of _Serenitys_ day cycle."

Rico nods sagely "You dont know sore until Marco decides that all of us need to run cqc drills all day. Pool?"

"Cant move." Spike groans out, still blatantly regretting his decision in light of recently revealed facts, and pointedly avoiding asking who Marco is, despite his sudden desire for clarification.

Triela groans "I just spent the last 5 hours fighting Bruce Lee. Gimme a few minutes then sure."

Rico tilts her head to the side "Jeet Kun Do? Awesome." then yelps just as her butt hits the surface of the pool table after pushing herself up onto it "Triela, yer stuffs on the table."

"Move it. Dont break anything." the other blonde shoots back.

Rico forces a chuckle "Its stabbing my ass."

Triela pinches her nose "The bayonet is in its sheath Rico. Clear the table so we can play a game."

Rico sheepishly nods, and hops back off the table to clear it. A solid half hour later, Triela is noting to herself not to face the younger cyborg at pool for money, ever, as the tiny victor and Jayne start into a game, Mal and Spike waiting in the wings like hungry predators.

****Broken****

"I hate long flights that end on dustballs." Triela gripes to Victor, sitting in the fold-out chair next to hers.

Victor laughs "Your just sore that we're stuck on guard duty."

"You know that the jobs done by now, and Jayne an Rico are probably off somewhere getting real food while Mal buys whatevers on Kaylees parts list."

Victor takes a bite of the sandwich on his plate sitting on the table between the two, sets it down, and replies "And he isnt back yet to take us up yet because Kaylee an 'Etta are still working on the ship. Just enjoy the real gravity, fresh air and sunlight." Grumbling, Triela takes a sip from her lemonade as Victor adds "Just be glad Simon brought us some fresh food along with what he got Kaylee." before taking another bite of his cold-cut.

"Its a sandwich Dad." Triela replies before taking a bite her mouth almost cant hold. After swallowing, she adds "After a mission that went that well before... we'd be in a five star listening to a string quartet with prime rib and red wine in front of us." She pauses "And I'd have a new bear."

Hillshire playfully flicks a ball of crumbs at his daughter "Dont act spoiled. A good ham sandwich is the same as steak dinner when everyone that matters is fine."

Triela cocks an eyebrow "I can count on one hand the number of times I saw you not wearing a suit, and now your saying a victory sandwich is as good as steak dinner?"

Victor raises his sunglasses and looks over at his daughter, reveling in how much clearer the air feels since she had went and smacked both of them in the face with what exactly their apparently 'complicated' relationship is. Sure, a father and his teenage daughter have their spats and disagreements, but... "Before I was SWA, I was Interpol Triela. To get into Interpol you have to be a damn good cop." he pauses as old memories flood back to him. "I've had enough cheap burgers in bars after stings gone right to appreciate what you can afford just as much as the best."

The girl shrugs, and takes another bite as Victor sips from his beer, a look of pure content on his face as he sinks back into the cheap folding chair. Triela, cant help herself "so its okay for you to swear and drink when you want, but I cant?"

Closed eyes pop half open "Your only sixteen, and lost your cool at a panicked 14 year old when we were working, so I'm not going to give you a drink." he pauses, to take another bite, and adds "And damn isnt a curse word."

Triela grins a bit "So why did you go off on me for using hell? It's no where near as harsh a word as damn." she pauses to savor her fathers face contorting to a caught out irritation before adding "And what was the legal drinking age in Germany again?"

Victor finishes his beer, drops the bottle into the sand, and replies "16, but we arent in Germany. We're on Whitefall, which is part of the Union of Allied Planets, where the legal drinking age is twenty two, with a gap between that and eighteen where a parent cannot provide their child with an alcoholic beverage. Besides, you wouldn't like stouts."

Triela huffs a sigh "We're criminals Hillshire." pauses, plops the last bite of sandwitch into her mouth, leans back, closes her eyes as she chews, swallows, and then finally replies "And how can you know if I will or wont like something I havent even tried?"

"Doesnt mean we dont have our morals still." he replies just as plainly as Triela stacks her now empty plate on top of his on the table between them. "My mom didnt let me drink a drop until I turned 18, and I would think that I know you and your tastes well enough to say it isnt your cup of tea."

Triela pinches her nose "Do I even _have_ to repeat the last few minutes of conversation to you, and list off your history with gifts for me before I started telling you what to give you, or can I just write down a list of my favorite dry reds?"

****Broken****

Bone tired. Thats all he can come up with as Atton trudges home from the feed mill. He had decided to go through the docks because it was quicker this time of the day, not because he saw a Firefly touch down at work. And even if that was the reason, it was to give a proper apology for being a proper hun dan, _not_ long blonde hair, ice blue eyes, tan skin and razor sharp wit and humor. "Keep pushing it young lady and you wont be leaving the ship at our next port of call."

"Oh come on Hillshire, you let me get away with a lot more than this all the time before we woke up in the future." a voice whose owner he had figured wouldn't land on this moon again shoots back. _Wait, what?_

The male voice, even as ever, eases out "I'm your father now. I've got to be a bit stricter."

_Again, what?_ Triela scoffs, and shoots back "Oh, so all those years before you werent then?"

There is a pause, the man, Trielas dad, is frozen and caught out. Atton decides to step out from behind the ship beside them and, well, go for broke "Um... hi Triela."

_Lame_ "Atton?" the tan girl queries, looking a bit shocked and, jealous? Sure she hadnt grown all that much,m but it had been a few months, and even then, he figured he had a few years on her, despite his baby-face and weak body, but jealous over his hitting his growth spurt?

Atton freezes as Green eyes sweep over him, up, down, up... away. "hn. _Thats_ the boy?" Atton had heard a lot of things about meeting the girls father. Terrifying arsenals. Promises of murder. Near maiming. 'Friendly trip's turned borderline homicidal. Hillshire stands up, and announces "Looks like Jayne and Rico are back, go have fun." but total dismissal? _Triella, pulling a shotgun out from under her coat, gunning down four men without so much as batting a pretty eyelash_, right, no need to protect the most terrifying girl in the verse from a wuss like him. Owch.

He scratches at the back of his head as the older man walks up _Serenity_'s boarding ramp "Right, so, I was a bastard last time you were here. I wanna make it up to you."

Triela rolls her eyes "Gonna parade me around like a trophy again?"

Atton drops his head "No, Granny ranted at me for being a self-centered bastard and a gorram idiot for a few hours after you left. I actually have some nice spots I wanna show you."

The girls sighs, clearly considering something she picked up in her fathers terse statement "Fine, lemme grab my coat and we'll head out."

"You mean your shotgun." Atton try's to playfully quip, but his voice squeaks, and the involuntary half-step back makes it even more obvious.

Triela pauses partway up the ramp "No, just the jacket, I have a pair of handguns on me right now.." Atton cant spot either of them, no matter how hard he tries as she walks the rest of the way up the ramp.

* * *

><p>Like it? Hate it? Have an uncomfortable rash in a strange place? Tell me about it! Nothing fuels my muse more than knowing what the people who read my story thought of it. Yes, even C&amp;C, in fact I like that even more, aside from favorite scene gushing, or idea spit-balling, knowing what you guys thought so that I can get better is what I like best. Thanks for reading this far, and I hope to be able to pick up the rate of updates as the days grow shorter.<p> 


	14. Chapter 14

Disclaimer: I dont own Firefly, I dont own GsG... and I'm broke to boot, so if you decide to try to sue me for all the money I'm not making on this, you'll just loose out from paying your lawyer.

A/N: Merry (belated) Christmas guys! heres a nice, massive, long overdue update for you!

Bomber68: Nice to know you feel the wait was worth it! hope this waits fruits are just as tasty for you!

RC1212: 'whats next' will hopefully knock your socks off, heh.

JackMatrix: Yea, the chase scene song is literally what was playing on my phone when the idea for it bounced into my head on the way to work. I guess the song just followed it into the chapter... though 'Darker Side of the Moon' fit just as well when I read the scene with that playing, heh.

VizeerLord: Thanks, I was stumped on how to fold Ed's backstory into the 'Verse properly, glad to hear that it makes sense to you.

Anonymous Fan: I think I can do all of that for you... just not all of that in this chapter, haha.

crimsonkatana: Well, no need to wait any longer, here ya go!

* * *

><p>Early afternoon, after a job, on a moon is typically the perfect time for Simon Tam to tidy up and organize his infirmary, and collect his thoughts while he's at it. For Simon, it is a tried and comfortable routine, first, he checks the infirmary, flicking the lights on to confirm that its empty, then off again as he leaves. After that, he walks the ship. Kaylee, working on the engine, Henrietta grumbling as she struggles against a bolt his girlfriend had clearly used one of her hydraulic screwdrivers to tighten: with a crescent wrench, both girls coated in the engines lifeblood, sweat, and a bit of their own blood. He pushes the lust that spikes from seeing Kaylee so fully in her element to the back of his mind, and carries on. Sandro and Petra can be heard arguing with each other in co-habitative bliss as he passes the crew bunks. River is napping in the hammock Henrietta had set up in the cockpit between spurts helping Kaylee fix <em>Serenity<em> as best she can while they were still out in the black. He passes Inara on his way through the common room sipping tea, light classical music playing in the background, the companion nearly falling asleep in her calmed state, the scent of incense heavy in the air, despite the fact that the cargo bay is hanging wide open to fresh out the ships air. Victor is lounging in a nearby chair, reading quietly and looking quite content.

Down in the cargo bay, Simon spots Jayne outside, all but napping in a folding chair after poking his head out of the access to the catwalk. Satisfied that he wont be disturbed as he cleans, organizes and inventories his infirmary, he turns around and makes his way back to it. His first hint that something is wrong is when he notices light pouring from its now open door. He rounds the corner to see his infirmary looking more like a war-zone than a place of healing. The apparent culprit is perched on the counter, one hand at the hem of her jeans, the other holding a roll of gauze wrap. "Did you need help... finding something, Rico?" flashbacks of one Jayne Cobb doing much the same to his infirmary in search of tape to hold guns to his skin flashing through the doctors mind.

She looks up to shake her head in a negative "No. I found the gauze already." she replies plainly and cheerily.

Almost afraid to press for more information, the fell hand of years of training and schooling push him forward into the infirmary, he asks "Why did you need to destroy my infirmary to find gauze?" more than a bit of distress on his voice.

The girls thumb properly hooks the hem of her jeans as her fingers begin to fiddle at the snap "Oh. Because I'm bleeding."

One plus one equals two, and suddenly Simon Tam is an awkward teenage boy from a very reserved, well-to-do family again, being chased from the house because mom had to spend the day talking about 'girl things' with River for some reason. Of course, after the thrill of spending a day at an amusement park with his dad wore off, he had realized why mom had chased them, all of the butlers, gardeners, and perhaps even all of the male bugs out of the house would sink in. So, he does the only thing he knows how to do when presented with a girl finally _not_ pre-pubescant, and passing that undeniable marker on the road to womanhood. He slaps the shipwide com on the wall and shouts "KAYLEE! INARA! I need you in the infirmary!" before beating a hasty retreat from the now very confused girl, looking much like a blushing ghost himself.

****Broken****

"So, this is a problem how?" Mal asks, looking down at the pictures of Triela, Rico, Henrietta and Petrushka, mostly from before they woke up in the future, and one of each from after. Curves. Not big, but, curves on teenage girls, or the growth thereof can only mean one thing, really.

Simon shakes his head "Think about it Mal. Their bones, their muscles, hell, most of their organs are fake. When they start growing properly, their bodies will tear themselves apart with too much exertion. For now, it looks to be just the drugs that had them stuck before, or in the early stages of of puberty they were at when cybernized failing. The actual growth still looks to have not started yet, mercifully."

The captain, still sore over being called back to _Serenity_ from the _Bebop_ flops into a chair and asks "Why Rico first, anyhow? Wasnt she the youngest of the ones that woke up when she got turned into a cyborg?"

Victor walks into the room, and answers "Because Jean kept her the most heavily conditioned of all of the girls, would be my guess. Biological backlash."

Inara follows behind, pinching the bridge of her nose "I think she may be more hopeless at being a girl than Jayne would be." she growls out exasperatedly. Before turning to look over her shoulder, and floping into a chair of her own. The rest of the crew simply accepting her statement at face value.

Simon forces a smile "Well, considering how well she does with not being able to be active, she'll be the first to go. Without better instruments than we have and a specialist they probably dont have all that much longer."

Victor, for his part, keeps his face controlled, and, with minimum body movement manages to almost make "I thought you had already stretched out their lives by years?" seem liked the simple question the words form, before turning away from Simon, and as a result, the rest of the people in the room for the answer.

The doctor shakes his head "That was before the witches brew those girls are on decided to start playing merry hell with their pituitaries, and body chemistry as a result."

The German sighs, then presses "How is it we missed this?"

Inara rolls her eyes as she tilts her head over to look at Victor, but her face softens immensely when she see's the pained, worried, absolutely paternal look on his face. She pauses, re-works her reply in her mind, and only then does she anser "When your building a wardrobe from the ground up, size changes and issues with a comfortable or flattering fit get missed." Of course her consideration failed to put enough of a pause between eye contact and speech for anyone to notice it.

"That would be my guess." Simon interjects with a noncommittal shrug "And with the girls shopping for themselves, and most of us men, its no wonder the most... telling, size changes never would have been mentioned."

"So straight on to Ariel after we stop on Persephone to get the ID's?" Inara prompts, looking more than a bit sad herself as the severity of the situation continues to sink in.

Mal opens his mouth, pauses, turns to glare at Inara and leans forward to demand "Since when do you decide where my ship flys?"

Inara just rolls her eyes "Since you signed that contract a few years back saying you wouldn't keep me from the mandatory obligations of my profession. Medical examinations are one of them." her tone becoming increasingly clipped with each word.

"Ah, gotta have those whore-checkups after all. Cant go spreadin no diseases." Mal drawls almost reflexively as he drops back into his seat "May as well run another hospital job while yer sneakin'em in to figure what needs to be fixed Simon. Gonna need the cash after buyin the parts 'Etta broke and those ID's"

Of course, his greedy planning leads to the captain being the last to pick up on the scent of burnt ozone, and the full weight of Inara's death-glare on him "Its an exit exam Malcolm. The Companions guild finally decided to expel me, thanks to the rumor that I helped the ship that sent The Wave. No need to worry though, I was smart enough to not take any _physical_ jobs since I decided to stay again so you wont be harboring an unregistered, illegal prostitute while I try to find a new livelihood at least." she shoves herself up from her chair, clearly on the verge of tears "I should have enough cash to stay at home for a few more months after the bills are payed." before storming out.

Mal sits there, staring at where the woman he just might love had just been, looking positively stunned. Simon lets out a low whistle and quips, in an almost Jayne-like manner "And here I thought _I_ was the worst of all the men on _Serenity_ when it comes to reading women."

Victor scoffs, as the captains look shifts from shock to absolute, devastated self-loathing "Personally, I'm appalled at our commanding officers severely deficient observational skills. For all the whore cracks I've heard, I havent once whiffed the smell of sex, or cover-perfume on her coming back from one of her jobs since I came onboard." Is it a low shot? Yes. Kicking a man when he's down? Certainly. Necessary? Victor Hartmann may not consider himself a matchmaker or a shrink, but he is certain that it is.

Finally, the captain snaps out of his fugue-like state "Nara, wait, I-" trailing off as it is only his doctor, gun-hand and open air listening.

Simon turns away from the stricken man "Too late now Mal." pausing as he stands up to leave himself "Right, Persephone then Ariel?" Mal just nods as he deflates into the back of his chair.

"I'd avoid her shuttle for a while if I were you Reynolds." Victor adds as he moves to follow the doctor out, leaving the man to his thoughts.

****Broken****

Triela is trying to give Atton a chance to make amends, she really is. But he's grasping at straws already, and she's caught his gaze go from her chest, to her guns, then her hips, then back up to her eyes three times in the last five minutes. However, he _is_ the first person not crew to even try to befriend her since she found herself in the future. Add to that that he is either stupid or brave enough to _still_ try to get to know her better after their first encounters end, and she figures he deserves the chance he is quickly squandering. "We could... no, said I wouldnt parade you around again."

Triela rolls her eyes, and interjects "We're on Whitefall, there cant be that many people living here. I know I wouldnt."

He shoots a glare at her "I wouldn't either, but buyin passage on a ship aint cheap, and when there aint no guarantee of a job when you get somewhere else..."

Triela pushes off of the wall she had been leaning against to walk over towards the other teen, kicking a rock clear of her path on the way "Why do _you_ want to leave here? I thought you had a pretty good set-up workin for your Gran."

He looks down at the ground with a sigh "Old folks die. Gran did 'bout a month or so after you left. I'm just lucky the feed-mill was hirin when my cash ran out." he forces a chuckle, before he adds "Plus the physical work did a bang-up job of finally forcing my growth spurt." he shrugs, pauses, and adds "That gives me an idea. Follow me." he turns to go, but notices Triela rooted in place glaring at him. "Oh dont give me that Tri, I figure I have a few years on ya anyhow. An its not like you've been locked looking the same the last few months either." the terrible, brutal irony, of course, is lost on him.

The tail end of the other teens admonition makes slow, confusing progress from ear to brain, then proceeds to get lost in the chaos it throws Trielas mind into. "How do you figure?" she fills the silence with as she lurches to follow Atton.

As the pair starts to cross the increasingly busy patch of shops and bars, Atton replies "I turned 17 a few months ago, I'd say that gives me two an a half, maybe three years on ya, depending on how hard yer body's been holdin out on ya."

Triela scowls down at her body, but refrains from mentally berating Simon for not figuring out how to get them to age properly sooner. It would make her look like she was sulking, or mopey, and she really is trying to not torture Atton. "I'm gonna be sixteen soon enough."

He cracks a grin and offers "Puts you a good sight closer to normal than I was at that age then." holding out an arm to stop Triela from stepping out into the street and getting bowled over by a passing horse.

She steps back, and shoots back "We're only a few months apart." before pausing to brush the front of her t-shirt clean of the not inconsiderate ammount of dirt that had transferred over from the other teens dirty flannel. "So, where are we headed anyhow?"

"Pond behind the mill I work at. Has a gorge not to far off to one side, and a scrub forest off to the other." he replies plainly, starting to walk again.

"I said you could try to make your being a hun-dan and dragging me around town like a chunk of arm candy last time we met up to me." Triela dryly replies "Not that you could try to take me on a date." she pauses "Especially to a swimming hole so you can splash me, pull me in, or try to con me into stripping down for a dip." more than a bit of ire creeping into her voice.

Atton chuckles "I'd rather you not grow a third arm to be honest. Its runoff from a chemical refinery and the feedmill combined. Chemical sheen and the sun make it look kinda nice, and the waste from the mill mixes with the chemicals around it. Varmants git all loopy eatin it... its funny."

The image of an absolutely stoned bunny shambling about plays out in her mind, followed by one of Henrietta and Angelica panicking and trying to help it out passing through as well, unbidden, the two images eliciting a smirk from her. "Alright, sounds good enough." she relents as they begin to pass from the bars and shops to what look to be factories, or something close enough. "I have to ask though, why is it you were so insistent on pressing that you wanted to make something up to me anyways? Its not like you were mean or bragged or anything."

The older teen forces a chuckle "Ehh, I kinda took you on the longest paths from shop to shop. Gran figured that out real quick." he pauses and looks up and down a street at an intersection, then chooses the less populous path, leading them into another shipping crate park.

Triela's gaze flicks over to the boy walking next to her "So, you decided to do what your dead grandma said you should, and started by strong-arming me into a position where I had to go along?" Realizing too late that she just took a big bite out of her foot with that question.

"What? No! I, well, it was just a chance meeting. And I didnt want to wreck it." he defends himself "And how do you sort I was strong-armin you?"

Triela's gaze gets a bit frosty around the edges, as she points out "You walk up on me an my dad havin lunch, and sitting bored. Then you drop an apology, and say you want to make amends. Now, if someone walked up to you cleaning tables for your gran after closing up her shop, and did that, would you get to say no?"

He opens his mouth, closes it, looks at Triela, is unable to hold her gaze, so his flicks to chest, then to handgun, in to her hips, then away and down. He spots a rock, kicks it clear and away down an alley as they pass it, and growls out "Gorramit. Look, I'm sorry, honest. Didnt mean to do nothin like that to ya."

At at that the girl realizes that she just took a second bite out of her poor foot, and begins to wonder why she left it in her mouth in the first place. As the pair passes under an awning, Triela pauses and pinches her nose, eyes closed "So you're saying you do narcissistic gou-shi like that off reflex?" some part of her mind apparently deciding she may as well chew at this point, as she slows to a stop, fully expecting to find herself standing alone shortly.

Another hapless rock is sent flying before the boy thumps his head into the steel shipping crate someone is living out of a few feet ahead of her and answers "No. No, its just, not many ships come through, an lots are Firefly's so the chance of yours bein one is real slim. An when the last proper meaningful talk you have with the only family you got is about a wrong you need to right..."

Triela starts walking in the direction her had been leading her "You make sure you do it. Right. C'mon lets see those stoned bunnies."

Atton is slow to catch on, but quick to catch up with her after that. He eventually takes back his spot, half a step ahead of her, a more or less confident look on his face, grinning ever so slightly. He opens his mouth to again try to strike up conversation just in time to be cut off by a halting female voice oozing of forced sexuality crooning "So, finally came by for a tumble Ton?"

Triela feels her face snapping to an angry scowl, as the other teen blusters out "What? NO! Thats... what in the ruttin hell is wrong with you Kate?" his voice laced with disgust and concern. The cyborg glances over to the source of the voice, to see a girl probably a bit older than Atton clad in a pair of 'shorts' that were probably a mans cargo pants before the legs were ripped off just below crotch level, a plain black bra and a white knitted shawl. Her skin is a bit on the pale side, red hair a bit thin, eyes just a tad sunken and cheeks a bit gaunt. A methhead then, probably fallen to full addiction not long ago by how light the damage is. Her grin is desperate, but it shows that all of the teeth are still there, and only a bit yellowed, her posture is awkward and rigid, ruining what would normally be a very alluring pose on the side of the shipping-crate-house she is outside of.

"Well, I cant get my fix if I aint got no cash, and I'm not that bad lookin, so why not?" she asks in response.

Atton scowls, and deflects the girls hand as she moves to wrap it over his shoulder. He quickly slips out of his button-down shirt and wraps it around her shoulders "Didnt I tell you not to go round Wayams no more?"

The girl giggles as Atton leads her back towards the 'house' she had been waiting outside of, Triela following behind, face softening, then hardeining again as the sounds of copulation begin to filter out through the thin steel wall, she begins searching for trouble approaching as the other girl drawls out "But... all I had ta do was keep the boys happy an they kept the pipe full. Best week I've had for months..." as Atton gently lowers Kate to the ground.

The male teens face hardens to a mask of rage as he pushes up from the ground. Before Triela can ask what's going on, the older teen has the door to the shack kicked in, and is inside. A few shouts, the sounds of a brief, one sided scuffle, then that of a skull bouncing off metal followed by glass shattering, then a few more resonating thuds, filter through the ruined door shortly afterwords. Atton stalks out, hands still clenched into fists, blood and glass shards falling from his left, muscles tense from the sudden exertion "Triela, I know this isnt exactly what we agreed on, but can you help me get Kate back to my house?" as he crouches to lift the barely lucid, swiftly crashing teen from the ground.

Triela just nods, and for a while, the trio backtrack through town, ignoring the shocked and scandalized looks and comments of the people they pass as so much white noise, before she asks "Friend of yours?" Atton just nods, still visibly working to get his anger under control "Family?" she guesses.

"Cousin. Worked with me at grans. Fell in with some wang ba dan de bia zi footpads thought they would make it big cooking meth, when she was looking for a new job. Other girls are all your age at best. High as all hell an sellin their bodies to not come down." he grinds out.

Triela spares a glance at the girl that, addiction considered, might be her junior, back in the direction of the shack that almost certainly did house some of her juniors, and doesnt press the issue past that; filling in the gaps herself. Minutes pass in silence until Attons shack of a home is in sight, and she breaks the silence to prompt "Sounds like you know some of'em."

He nods as he pushes his door open "Grew up with most all of'em." there is a pause as he braces out and re-positions his cousin in his arms "Both groups."

She cocks an eyebrow at Atton as he makes his way through the mostly clean, almost homey shack to deposit his cousin on the mostly clean bed after pushing the mound of sheets clear from its center "Know where they live?"

"Gou neong yung de has his gang cooking meth in the very same house, real house, that he grew up in." the other teen answers as he walks back out of his house, barely acknowledging Triela as he passes her in the doorway.

She catches the door behind him to keep it from slamming, and asks "And why havent you stopped them then?"

He wheels about to glare, rather impressively she will admit, at her before snapping out "Oh, I dont know, maybe the part where they trade meth for cash, sex, guns an ammo, or I'm just one kid and theres over a dozen of them by now? And if you say I should have told the 'liance to get it sorted I'll crack you upside the head, girl or no." He pauses to take a deep, steadying breath, forces his left hand down from where it had been holding an acusing finger inches from her chest; clenches and unclenches his fists, and continues "Sorry... its just, their killin what little good there is in this hellhole, and I cant do a thing 'bout it."

The captain will be pissed. Hillshire will be furious. But to Triela, there's only one course of action she can live with open to her. She carefully schools the shocked expression Attons outburst had left on her face to one of calm confidence, and only then does she reply "Of course there's something you can do about it." acting on instinct, she offers him one of her handguns she hadnt even realized was out of its hideaway holster, her hand firmly clasping the barrel so that he can take the grip "You can follow me."

****Broken****

Petra stomps onto the bridge, where River had, up until the redhead entered, been napping in Henrietta's cot, and chooses to ignore the noise. Petra, pulling at her hair, half-screams "Arrgh! Why did I move in with that pig-headed hun-dan?!"

River tilts her head back, opens one eye cocks its brow, and looking as cat like as a girl can, quips "Took you less than five minutes to move the rest of your things Petra."

The angry redhead growls out something incoherent, throws herself into the co-pilots chair and pouts back "readings cheating." as the chair slowly spins from her weight and momentum

River lets her head drop back onto the cot, closes her eye and replys "As good as breathing to me." she pauses and rolls over after a few moments of silence to face the other teen "What was it about?"

Now its the redheads turn to pout as she bitterly replies "Thought a reader like youd know already."

River lets Petra know just how much of a boob she is with a glance, before rolling back to her back, closing her eyes and extrapolating "You inhale _and_ exhale. I dont get everything. Not anymore. What was it about?"

Still pouting, Petra mutters "Sandro wants to leave _Serenity_. I think thats a terrible idea."

River shrugs "Just because you leave home doesn't make it stop being home." she pauses to yawn, and stretch, only making the brunette seem even more like a cat before she presses "He has a plan, doesn't he?"

Petra nods slowly "Yea, he does."

River blows a stray lock of hair out her eyes, closes them again and offers "And its a good one. Your just mad that he's telling not asking."

Head staring down at her own cleavage, arms crossed under it the other girl again spits out "Readings cheating Riv."

A hurt look crosses the other girls face before she scoffs and spits back "You really think I need to read you to know why you were so mad Petra? Was written all over the way you stormed in here." she huffs through a slowly forming grin as her friend finally starts to come out of her funk a bit, her arms and legs uncrossing "Go. Make nice with Sandro. Your all sulky when your mad at him still."

Petra finally cracks a smirk and relaxes into the chair "Dont know what I'd do without you River."

The other girl shrugs after a while as she looks over to reply "Have one less feng-le friend?"

The older teen shakes her head ruefully "Stop that." her voice bearing more than a bit of a commanding snap, before it softens into "Every friend I had before I got here was crazy by most standards considered normal. Your just a new friend, and one I wouldnt change for the verse right now."

River forces a 'long suffering' sigh through a small grin "Now your just being soppy to be soppy. Stop that."

"Read that?" the redhead queries, turning her own grin on the brunette who is pointedly staring out the viewscreen to avoid eye contact.

Silence hangs pregnantly for a few minutes before River turns to Petrushka, a positively Cheshire grin on her face "All over your voice. Now go, make up. Captains back off _Serenity_ so you wont even have to hear him complain about the noise you make this time."

"Eh..." the other girl trails off, pulling on the co-pilots seats lever to recline it "I think I'll sweat him for a bit. Cant have him not respecting my anger properly."

River hums a bit from her cot, before replying "Then shut up and get to sleep. Whitefalls boring and its naptime."

****Broken****

Rico wanders the labyrinthine streets of Whitefall city half in a daze, head throbbing. Food shack, food shack, general store, gun store... all of them useless to the list she has stuffed into her shorts pocket. She side-steps a passing horse, trips on a curb, and stumbles to a halt in front of a concrete block of a building with 'Pawn Shop' painted in English and Mandarin above its one barred window. Ignoring the riders cursing at her for walking down the middle of the street, she shakes her head to clear it, and makes her way into the shop. Cheap guns are displayed on a pegboard rack behind the cashiers counter. The aisle leading to the bored, pidgeon-featured woman reading a magazine behind the same barred off counter is lined with glass-topped, locked cases filled with assorted knives, blades and jewelry. Alot of them look dull or like fakes, but the cyborg cant be sure.

A light flickers to the right, momentarily breaking illumination around the chunk of the shop devoted to electronics, and drawing Ricos attention to a white, red lettered sign reading 'Clerk is armed. Attempt shoplifting at your own risk.' Opposite the electronics section is a seemingly random spattering of items, and a sign, slightly more faded, and sporting a bullet hole, though otherwise the same reading 'No Questions'. There may be no chairs readily visible, but she might find something on 'Ettas list, so Rico begins to browse, her interest piqued.

Wandering off to her left she nearly knocks over a stand of umbrellas and canes digging through it, and in her haste to right it, she finds a particularly ornate dragon-headed cane that, in reality, should be in one of the weapon cases. She considers it for a minute, before putting it back in the rack after sliding the fraction of blade that had just become visible back in. Maybe next time. The rack of weird smelling, and ominously stained clothes is bypassed, to potentially reveal paydirt; most of a wicker furniture set that looks more or less clean. Rico plops down into one of the high backed, surprisingly comfy chairs. After a few seconds though, it starts to creak ominously, and the cyborg pushes herself out of it before she becomes the owner of a pile of twigs.

Defeated but not done, she wanders over into the electronics, her eyes again lingering on the cane-blade as she passes it. Most of what she sees appears broke, old and outdated, or both; though a few media players catch her eye as possible replacements to the literally ancient devices she and her sisters all have still. After a few more minutes of aimless browsing, she stumbles across an oddity, a new, sealed box for what appears to be a stereo surround-sound set. Probably a nice one, if even half of the selling points on the box can be believed "Ooh! SoundMaster 7's new model!" a somewhat familiar voice crows from over her shoulder.

Rico spins about to see Ed, the girl from the _Bebop_ they had saved from the prison train, her prison jumpsuit swapped out for a faded grey pair of low-rise, hip-hugging cargo pants, and a white low shouldered t-shirt exposing her midriff and a single shoulder, along with a yellow bra-strap. Despite being probably the same physiological age, the redhead, her hair now tamed enough to fall down to just above her shoulders, looks decidedly older than the more petite blond, especially with the panicked, borderline insane glint in her eyes. "Edward?"

"Edward Wong Hau Peplu Tivrusky IV to be exact!" she exclaims happily, an air of self-assured confidence seemingly emanating from her "Your gonna buy that, right?"

Rico takes half a step back, remembering how... unpredictable, the other girl can be, and asks "Is it... worth what they're asking?" before tacking on "I'm Rico by the way." and offering her hand, which Ed happily accepts and shakes wildly up and down.

The girl oozes up beside Rico, raises a hand to cover her mouth from the clerks sight and replies in a half-whisper "Alot more than that. Its probably hot."

Rico tilts her head to look at the other teen for a while before responding "Then why arent you buying it?"

"Cuz we're BROKE AGAIN!" she exclaims a bit too cheerily, causing Rico to wince.

Rico deadpans, and lifts the large box up with her left arm "My gain I guess. Why are you in a pawn shop if your broke anyways?"

She shrugs, shoves her hand down into her pockets to pull out some data drives, and what look to be an assortment of home-made badges and earrings, all of them some manner of yellow face "Getting money for dinner for me and Ein."

The blonde just nods, slides the cane she had been eyeing since she realized what it is out of the rack, and proceeds to the counter, Ed still trailing curiously behind her. After a few lazy taps at a keyboard a price pops up on a blinking, mismatched, green, red, blue and yellow LED display. Rico slides some platinum chips into the tray, which the clerk takes, counts and finally nods to Rico. Ed slides her offerings under the tray, the clerk examines them, and types in a number. Ed frowns, takes the data drives back from the tray, and starts to tap her foot, her face now set in a petulant scowl. The price jumps up by half again, Ed slides the drives back into the tray, the clerk takes the haul, drops the amount offered back into it, and goes back to her magazine. The duo make their way out of the shop, but the doors screeching shut makes Rico stop to wince.

"Feelin sick?" Ed asks, a touch warily.

Rico shakes her head as she moves to shield her eyes from the sun "No. Shark Week." she replies, picking the first term she could remember to go with.

Eds mouth forms and understanding 'oh' before she presses "Killer headache?" which elicits an affirmative nod from the cyborg "Cramps just as bad?" this question gets her a negative head-shake from the blonde, who is now rubbing at her temples with her free hand. The redhead tosses her a half-smirk and quips "Lucky."

Rico groans, hefts the stereo system box and whines "Dont see how if I have to deal with this gou-shi every month."

Ed chuckles "So a cyborg _and_ a late-bloomer? Thats harsh." Rico freezes, drops her cane, and nearly drops the sound system "Oh, I left some data-taps on _Serenitys_ computer. I know all about you girls. Triela is probably still all grumpy about me, and she was dragging her boy-toy across town, so I found you so that I could meet the badass robot-cyborg-android girls! Oh, and dinner."

This time, Rico does drop the sound system. Ed dives to catch it, but yelps in pain as all that accomplishes is to crush her hand and pin her in place on the ground. Not breaking stride, she glances up, grinning from ear to ear "Want help setting that up?"

****Broken****

Triela resists the urge to sigh into the awkward silence that had reigned since she and Atton had made their way to the pond he had originally wanted to take her to after destroying the meth lab. His hands are still shaking, and his gaze is distant and unfocussed. He hadnt killed anybody, probably didnt do more than give a few of the drug-pushing, flesh-trading, evil bastards that had once been his friends, or at least acquaintances, flesh wounds, but he is still clearly coming down from the rush of his first bullets in anger. The idea may be one foreign to her, but she has seen enough rookie cops or agents that had been in the wrong place at the wrong time, or getting their trial by fire being talked down by a seasoned hand to at least know, theoretically, what she _should_ be doing.

He bounces his boot hard off the ledge over-looking the surprisingly pretty polluted pond as sunset plays off it, and she realizes just how daunting a task that is. She cant sympathize, as her conditioning means she simply doesn't _get_ what he's feeling, not on the same level at least. At 16, she cant offer him a stiff drink at a nearby bar to distract him; and even if she could, she wouldn't trust the local establishments. She cant even offer him a cup of coffee, as the only liquid around is the chemical-reeking, thick as molasses pond.

"Triela, I-"

"Atton, I-" they both start at the same time, before glancing away from each other awkwardly.

Being the first to recover, Triela stars again "Atton, I want you to know that you did the right thing, a good thing today. It doesnt make you any less or worse of a person."

Finally shaken from his stupor he protests "But I"

"Didnt kill anyone. Tagged a few, but didnt kill anyone." Triela cuts him off, smirking despite herself, knowing that Simon had gotten a similar rebuke not all that long ago.

He shakes his head and takes a ragged breath, before responding "Thats a lie. I set the lab to go off after we got the girls out. You may have put bullets in them, but I probably killed all the ones we left hurt on the ground with that."

Triela closes her eyes, thinks back, and, her smirk turning sad, corrects him "Some ran, and I saw them take the ones we left wounded behind us with them. Your not a killer." she pauses "And if you were, you would still be a good person."

A pair of rodents bump into each other, and start bickering in what seems to be slow motion, thanks to the lethargy the pollutants put them into as Atton presses "How can you know that? How can you... how can you live with what you do?"

The girl presses her lips, and leans back to look up at the blazing sunset, before letting her eyes drift shut "The 'verse isnt a nice place Atton, and it isnt fair, we both know that. Not everyone walking this 'Verse with us is worthy of that privilege." Triela answers, reciting something Hillshire had told her very early in her training, a few words changed of course "Some of us make it our job to separate those undesirables from the rest of humanity, to spare others the pain of doing so themselves." she continues, letting a peace fall over her as her fathers words float from her mouth. She pauses for a moment to savor it, before adding "My father told that to me, when I was in your shoes years ago. Helped keep me sane though the hell between that day and us signing on with _Serenity_."

The boy chokes a bit, despite the fact that every time he had ran into her, he had seen Triela take lives without showing much more than an ounce of emotion for it. "Years?" some unseen force preventing him from making a total ass of himself and pushing past that.

"I didnt get this good overnight, and like I said, the 'Verse aint fair." She deadpans, tilting her head towards him and opeining her eyes again, doing her best to keep the acid from her retort, as the shaking starts to return to the teen who had very nearly been calm not moments before.

He shifts in place, deflates a bit more and asks "It... it was just those words that held you together?"

Triela allows herself to laugh a bit, missing the flush that comes to the other teens face, as her eyes are closed in mirth, before she adds "No, Dad was there every step of the way with me. Him, Rico, 'Etta an their big brothers. We were all as good as family, still are, those of us who are left. The adults all cut us enough slack to act our age when we could afford to, no matter how bad it got." she chuckles again as memories pass by her minds eye, and allows her own eyes to open again as she laces her fingers behind her head and again settles down onto her back in the dirt "I still have the teddy bear collection Dad got me. A bear for every job gone right; even when I got something nice _on_ the job that most of the other adults would call reward enough."

Atton feels a spike of anxiety as the girls gaze falls on his still blushing face, but the idea of such a fierce warrior collecting teddy bears of all things is enough to get him to break out into laughter, covering for him. "Bears, really?" he forces out between guffaws, missing the embarrassed flush on the tan girls face now "You'll have to show me some time."

Triela schools her embarrassed scowl to a more amicable half-smirk, and replies "Next time I'm on world, I just might." She looks up at the nearly finished sunset "But I have a dad probably worried sick and sharpening a knife for you by now, and a Captain that no doubt heard a gunfight and a building blowing up to answer to. So I really need to be on my way... and you have a cousin that'll be comin' to soon enough that needs seeing to." before unlacing her hands from behind her head, and slapping the ground as if to help herself push up from the dirt.

Atton quickly bolts up to stand, and begins to fumble at his waistband for the handgun he still had stuffed into it. By the time he has the Sig Sauer P232 fumbled free, Triela is standing, and facing him "I almost forgot to give this-"

"Keep it." she cuts him off, catching his hand, offering her the but of the handgun, with her own hand mid-way through his offering the weapon back "I have another, and on a world like this your crazy not having something to protect yourself with. Just promise to take care of it for me." Atton is only able to nod dumbly as she turns to head back to _Serenity_.

****Broken****

"Hey, Rico, I have a question." Ed asks from the corner of the room the blond shares with Henrietta, a laptop sitting on her crossed legs.

Rico looks down at the tanned girl from the ladder she is securing the last speaker to the wall from and replies "Yea?"

Ed tilts her head in confusion, as she looks between the new computer she is transferring the music files the roommates have to, after converting them to a modern format , and the positively ancient laptop they had been on, then asks "When did you get froze again?

"A little bit into the second decade of the 2000's I think?" Rico responds as she finishes affixing the speaker to the wall, her tongue hanging out in concentration as she does so. "We knew holidays, birthdays and how old we were, but, with how short our lives were supposed to be, the actual year never really mattered to us. Why?"

Ed unfurls her legs from her lotus pose to pull one up over her head in a stretch, pushing the laptop forward and leaning her face forward to be inches from the screen as she replies "Because some of these songs are from the second half of that decade... or the next few decades altogether." As the other girl climbs down the ladder and walks over to where the tan girl is working.

Rico peeks her head over the other girls shoulder to look at the screen, blatantly ignoring the gratuitous feat of flexibility the redhead is exhibiting "Well, some of the girls at the Agency _were_ information warfare experts, and they didnt pay us. Maybe they used torrents?"

Ed scrunches her face up in confusion "Torrents?" as a suddenly bored Rico turns around to head towards one of the beds.

Rico throws herself onto said bed and explains "You know, peer to peer sharing. Get a client, download the file, get free games movies and songs until you get caught?"

Ed shakes her head "Peer to peer?" as she taps away at the keyboard and touchpad, still moving files over and converting them.

The blond rolls on to her side to face Ed "One person uploads a file, others download it, after they have it all they upload too." she pauses as her finger involuntarily finds the corner of her mouth "At least, thats how I think it works. I got a few albums, then Jean and Lorenzo yelled at me about breaking opsec when they got some e-mails from the studios lawyers."

"Mmm... if there really was something like that, a good data-diver could set up a program to get the best quality files for their favorite bands as soon as the file was on the cortex-"

"Web" Rico interjects playfully.

Ed turns up to stick her tongue out at the other girl and argues "Semantics shmemantics. If it used to exist Blue Sun probably stopped it after they got big anyways."

Rico shrugs "There were a few that were good with computers like I said. I just bought music after I got busted."

Ed nods and goes back to her work, which Rico quickly grows bored of again, and rolls over again to sprawl out on "Busted?" the redhead queries.

"Lorenzo got a threatening cease and desist letter, and a lot of the Section 1 clerks saw the out of court settlement e-mail. Something like twenty euro per song... they pegged me for 3 dozen or so I think. I... was in trouble for a few months after that." the other girl airily replies, missing the redheads wince, as the sound of the door leading down to the bunk opening draws her attention.

A grumbling Henrietta makes her way down the ladder, and has her grease, grime and sweat-coated old p.e. T-shirt halfway off before she realizes that not only is her roommate in the room, but there is a visitor. She drops the garment back on, turns to face the pair, and in a very level voice announces "Triela's nearly back to the ship, cap'n is. I'm taking a shower before we lose our water hook up and are on rations. Liftoff in an hour."

Ed, not knowing Henrietta well enough to take the hint replies, without looking up to see the sabers the brunette is glaring at her "You're the mechanic and the pilot? Didnt expect that."

"I'm. Not. The. Mechanic." Henrietta grinds out. Ed, head still leaned up against the laptop screen as she absent-mindedly switches to her other leg stretched up and over her head, almost to the point that its touching her nose, misses Rico pushing herself back on her bed far enough to be able to hide behind it when her long-time roommate blows her lid and turns the redheads head into paste.

Ed taps a few random keys triumphantly with her free hand and, voice still absent-minded and peppy, replies "Awful nice of you to help out the mechanic with repairs while your ships on the ground then."

Henriettas eye twitches, and she walks over to the corner Ed is camped out in, rears her right hand back, makes a fist and, voice still tight, spits out "I. Didnt." before punching, and severely denting, the bulkhead inches above Eds own head "The captain _made me_ because some of the maneuvers I put _Serentiy_ through damaged her because of how _someone_ hacked the ships _FIRMWARE_ did huge amounts of damage to the ship when the commands got carried out." her voice getting louder with each word. Rico covers her eyes, despite the other duo being out of her line of site, and drags her sheets over her head for good measure.

Realization dawns on Ed, and her head snaps up to look at the newcomers face. The hackers eyes bug out, going as large as saucers as she freezes in place "Ummmmm... Sorry?" she begins to try to slowly slide back and away from the other girl, still in her stretching pose "The... uhh... mechanic wasnt hurt, was he?"

Henrietta lets out an angry growl, her fist once again loaded and ready to fly "_She_ is fine, luckily for you." As the soon-to-be-corpse bumps into the wall and realizes she is stuck between that and the irate cyborg.

Ed forces a chuckle out, though it is clear to everyone in the room that it is one of fear, not amusement "I... uhh... was k-k-kinda not right in the head when I went to the bridge." her voice squeaking the whole sentence.

Henrietta blows out a long, slow breath and, moving to let the slightly taller redhead stand in the same motion she lowers her arm and unclenches her fist "I know. Thats why your still here. I'm taking a shower."

Before Ed can formulate any other response, Rico scoops her up from the floor and drags her out of the bunk. "Ettas... a girly girl. She's been helping our mechanic since we were clear after getting you out." the blond explains after getting her new friend clear of her nearly homicidal soul-sister.

Ed groans, as if in physical pain as they pass into the cargo bay "Zao gao... she's gonna kill me iffin we meet each other again, aint she?" still shaking a bit from her brush with death, she pounds the bulkhead to her right and exclaims "Ed's dead Dead DEAD!" not realizing that they are no longer alone.

Triela, who had been berating Hillshire, one hand on her hip, the other gesticulating wildly, her father, and Jayne, who had been, until the tan girl returned, shooting pool with the aforementioned father all freeze to look up to the catwalk. Triela recovers first, and continues "Like I said, this is a Hwo gai moon, and it took real balls for him to actually follow me to take out that meth lab. Not only does he deserve somethin for improving life on this gou shi moon, but not all of the tian sha de e mo that were sellin meth to other kids an acceptin' their friends bodies as pay are dead. He needs it, I have another. Dont have any friends off this boat aside from him an I dont want to lose him because _you_ were being cheap with MY guns!" before stomping off towards, and then up the stairs at an angry, rapid pace. When she reaches the pair of younger girls she pauses, and lets her angry scowl fade to a more amicable, calm expression "Nice to see you looking normal and sane Ed." before continuing on back into the ship.

After the older blond clears earshot Jayne snickers, and takes a shot, sinking his last ball before the 8-ball, puffs the last bit of smoke out of his cigar and quips "What is it you said before about a boy really havin' ta be somethin' to catch her attention Vic?"

Pinching at the bridge of his nose as Jayne scrubs his shot off of one of the Germans remaining stripes, Hillshire answers "Not another gorram word Cobb. Not a word."

Giggling a bit, Rico pats her new-found, and now even more shell-shocked friends shoulder after she recovers from the shouting and assures her "Don't worry Henriettas normally a real sweety. I'll butter her up for you with the sound system and how you moved all that music we copied over to modern files, then you can wave us a few times and I'm sure you two will get along great next time we meet." the blond pauses to let Ed precede her down the stairs and watch Hillshire nearly even out the game before scratching, and Jayne taking the table the next shot. "I'll talk to ya later Ed. Hope yer next job actually works out... an pays."

"Me too." Ed answers as she makes her way off of _Serenity_.

****Broken****

Henrietta is lounging half awake in her hammock, _Serenity_ in the middle of the black and on course, when the sound of an incoming call jolts her to full wakefulness. She quickly schools her hair into something resembling control by cinching it back into a low ponytail, and hits the 'accept call' button under the screen. It's the on duty pilots job to screen any Waves during the ships night cycle after all. "Oh, hey, you answered!" the boy from the Li Shen Bazaar happily exclaims as Henrietta blushes, and flies into a tizzy trying to get herself a bit more presentable, from the waist up at least, as she curses herself for not checking whose line it was for first.

"Of course I did." she manages as her personal ministrations die down "I am the duty pilot after all."

The boys face lights up, and Henrietta notices, mercifully, that he's in what looks to be a 'comfy t-shirt' as well, and his hat-head is nearly as bad as her bedhead. "Really, a pilot? Thats so cool Henrietta!"

She blushes, and shrugs "Its just how I earn my keep..."

He flashes her a positively radiant grin as he leans back in his chair "You answered, remembered me, and my promise! Will, I'm Will."

Trying her best to fight off the burn on her cheeks, Henrietta pulls at a loose lock of her hair and shifts to better face the camera and screen "Not every day a boy just walks up and calls me 'cute'. Of course I remember you."

Will rolls his eyes "You come from a moon of blind men?" he is rewarded with previously calm Henreitta again breaking out into a blush.

The girl glances away from the screen to cover her blush, then, after a few seconds, asks "Your callin awfully late... any reason why you waited so long?"

The other barely-teen scratches at the back of his head sheepishly with a half-chuckle before answering "I just got off work an felt like talkin is all. I'm sorry if I woke you up."

Henrietta shakes her head vehemently, feeling her blush deepen, but she presses on anyways "No, its not a problem at all! I'm not supposed to fall asleep when I'm watching the bridge actually."

Will flashes her another brilliant smile, and stretches back in his swivel chair "So... your glad I called you?"

The girl nods enthusiastically, her own grin beaming back at him brightly through her still flushed cheeks "Actually, it'd be nice to have someone to talk to on these night shifts."

He chuckles "It get lonely out there?

Henrietta shrugs, and leans back into her hammock "Not really, the crews all great, and we all get along... but I can only play my violin so long when everyone else is asleep before I run out of songs quiet enough to not wake everyone up, or get tired of playin' slow and soft."

"Violin? You mean, like a fiddle, but..."

"Classy? Cultured?" Henrietta finishes for the boy, laughing at his shock "Yes, its... a hobby my... big brother got me into a long time ago."

Will shifts about uneasily "did you, wanna play for me, maybe?" he pauses and glances down at the ground, or something off screen and below him at least "I mean, that is, if it isn't too personal."

If Henriettas smile had been bright before, it lights all the way up to 10,000 watts at her luck finding Will, or, him finding her rather "Of course! I'd love to!" she all but squeaks back, reaching down off of her hammock to her still open case.

****Broken****

The forgers work office is, for lack of a better word, a cave. Its a nice cave, polished, well lit and with plenty of room, but a secluded windowless room in the heart of an office complex with more 'B' levels then above-ground real-estate can only really be described as such at the end of the day. Mal and Jayne are both hanging back at the door to act as guards, and let the former members of the Social Welfare Agency make their way to the counter to set up their forged real identities. There is a bit of confusion as the six make their way forward, but, Triela and Hillshire end up in the front of the line at the hackers desk. "So, who do you two want to be?" he asks, his cheap suit and yellowed, cavity-ridden grin combining with the question cementing his blatant creepy-nerd personality for all in the room. For a moment, the only noise is the hum of the bank of powered up computers sitting along the mostly clutter-free right-hand wall of the room.

Hillshire takes half a step forward, and pushes the sniffling Triela protectively behind him. "I _am_ Victor Hartman. This" he pauses to indicate the cyborg he had just shielded from the other mans lecherous gaze "is my daughter Triela Hartman." before sliding the full cost of credentials that could get them cleared to tour Parliament on Londinium if they so chose over to the other man.

The potential pedophile blows a derisive half-snort out through his nose, and asks "Mother?"

"Unkown, adopted." Hillshire responds, his voice clipped and protective.

A 'knowing' and friendly glint lights in the hackers eyes "Thats extra, working in adoption papers as good as your asking for." Hillshire levels a death glare on the man, and slaps down another handful of platinum.

The man shrinks back a bit "Ages?" averting his gaze into the laptop he is working off of.

"My daughters sixteen, I'm thirty-four." he answers, not easing up on his gaze.

Fill out the rest at the first and second computers from the door you came in through. Cards will print after your done."

As Hillshire all but drags his daughter over to the computers, Petra and Sandro advance, hands loosely clasped "Alessandro Ricci and Petrushka Baronovskaya. No living family, be creative. Thirty two and seventeen."

Petra takes a step back, her eyes widening, voice wavering a bit, begins to exclaim "Hey, Sandro, I-"

He half-chuckles, and slips his arm around her waist "Wont be 18 for a few months yet honey." supporting the dejected looking cyborg on the way to the waiting computer where she can enter the rest of her information to be hacked into Alliance data-banks.

Head swiveling back and forth in shock, mouth agape, Henrietta stumbles forward thanks to the gentle nudge Rico gave her during the exchange. The mans eyes light up, only to dart away as the chestnut haired cyborgs eyes fade from a shell-shocked pre-teens to those of a hardened killers "Henrietta Crorce. Fourteen. Family deceased, emancipated orphan as of a year ago." her voice one of unwavering, unyielding steel, and gaining shocked looks from all of the people she had entered the office with.

Deflating, the slimeball of a hacker just nods, indicates the bank of computers the others are typing away at, and, bracing himself for another round of terrifying veiled threats, overt promises of pain or proverbial sucker-punches, and deadly calls out "Next." Rico, not entirely sure what to make of all she had just seen makes her way to the counter, steps small and uncertain. After a few moments of silence, the hacker prompts "Name?" not even bothering to look up from his computer.

"Rico... ahh..." the cyborg pauses, seemingly unsure of how to finish the simple question, despite having had the same more or less familial ties the girl who had been at the desk before her possessed.

Jayne Cobb, to his mind at least, is a man of action, when it needs to be taken. He may bitch and whine about the captains decisions, but he still gets jobs done, or at least his part in them. He doesnt consider himself the most moral of men, but when it comes down to it, he still likes to think of himself as a man who does the right thing when the issue really matters. His proof, to himself, at least, is that after _he_ saw the recording that had woken up the whole 'Verse to the reality of Reavers and the Alliance's place in making them, he hadnt made a single attempt to question or contradict the captains choices; save for tactical qualms. Yet, here, right in front of him, the girl that had somehow managed to worm her way into his heart over the past few months, is struggling over her family name.

Who can a person always count on when the chips are down; who will always count you as their own no matter what you did, or who is asking; who will stand between you and the stormy seas of life when its all to much to bear? Family, to one Jayne Cobb the only answer to those questions is family; and Rico, just after the girl that is her sister in all but genetics had declared to all and sundry what her family name is, is faltering.

The man acts.

"Cobb. She's Rico Cobb." he announces, stalking forward to slap down the extra platinum that would be required to push the adoption papers into the system. You could hear a pin drop, if only someone would let one fall. "I mean, that is... iffin you'll have me as yer Pa, Rico." the mercenary adds awkwardly as he realizes just what it is he had offered. The hacker shrugs and begins to type, as Rico slowly turns around, dumbfounded look on her face.

"You... you'd actually..." she starts trailing off as her words fail her.

Jayne levels an almost condescending gaze on the cyborg "Course I would Tiny. All you gotta say is that your okay with it. I dont aim to force this on you... didnt really know I was gonna do this up until a minute ago myself to be totally honest."

The hacker looks up from his computer, and snaps out "Well, is he your dad or isnt he?"

Rico whips around, looking more than a bit mad herself and snaps back "Corse he-" she pauses, realizes what had just fell from her mouth, collects herself and repeats "Of course he is."

* * *

><p>Heh, that last scene has been on my mind since I started this fic.<p>

Translations! (shitty probably but its what I could find, haha):

wang ba dan de biao zi: whores of sons of bitches

Hwo Gai: eserving of bad luck or fate

gou shi: crap

Tian sha de e mo: God Damn monsters

And finally, please read and review! I love to know what you think, what parts you liked, what your pissed at me about, even a quick 'hey I read it and enjoyed it' really brightens my day up! It also makes me wanna write even more... haha. Until next time!


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